


The Redemption of Chloe Price

by SufferingIsAChoice



Series: The Old Gods of Arcadia Bay [2]
Category: Life Is Strange (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Rewind Time Powers (Life is Strange), Borderline Personality Disorder, CW for mentions of suicidality, Eventual Happy Ending, Eventual Relationships, F/F, Homophobia, Homophobic Language, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Lesbian Chloe Price, Long-Term Relationship(s), Mark Jefferson Is His Own Warning, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Slow Romance, no power but still weird shit, past amberprice, pricefield
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-01
Updated: 2020-11-02
Packaged: 2021-03-07 19:13:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 31
Words: 71,523
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26742688
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SufferingIsAChoice/pseuds/SufferingIsAChoice
Summary: Chloe Price has a meeting in a bathroom, when a girl from her past saves her, apparently, although she says she can't remember how she did it. This is about what comes after.Self contained, although it will be technically related to the first part of the Old Gods of Arcadia Bay, but can be completely enjoyed without it.
Relationships: Maxine "Max" Caulfield/Chloe Price
Series: The Old Gods of Arcadia Bay [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1946536
Comments: 628
Kudos: 77





	1. The Day You Died

**Author's Note:**

> Chloe gears herself up for a meeting.
> 
> CW for reclaimed lesbophobic slurs, discussion of violence and racism.

The Day You Died

“Someone, I tell you, in another time, will remember us.”

-Sappho of Lesbos

Somewhere, in another of the infinite timelines…

She was angry, and a little thirsty, probably because the thought of the bathroom was running through her mind. Or maybe she just needed to piss. Who’s stupid idea was that? Hers. Of fucking course. She was scared too, although she refused to admit it to herself. She never did. What was it that they said online? Breath in, breath the fuck out. Fuck you, fuck the world, fuck her too. But mostly she was angry.

The world flew past her, as the truck roared down the road. It would be so easy for the cops to stop her, right? She was speeding, after all. Maybe some part of her brain wanted them too. Then she would never have to look him in the face, and talk about what he did to her. Maybe the cops really would be better. But of course they didn’t stop her. They we’re too shit, just like the rest of this fucking town, and no one listened to her prayer, or whatever else it was, out in the universe.

It came into view, as she rounded the bend, clearing the dense pine trees. Hundreds of years ago white men first came to this place, this little bay, that was already someone’s home, and decided to make it their own. And because they had the guns, and not her, Chloe Price, they had taken it, and, being gigantic racists who thought that a place would be good because they wanted it to be white, had decided they would name it Arcadia Bay. Arcadia, after some shitty place in Greece that was supposed to be like an agrarian heaven. She knew all that. Everyone forgot that she had been to Blackwell, just like all those other pricks. Well guess what, bitches, Et in Arcadia Ego, Chloe thought. I too am in Arcadia, I’m here, for now, and I’m going to fuck you up.

She roared into town, as the truck backfired sporadically. She had fixed it. It was hers. But it was still a fucked-up piece of shit. Hopefully it would be good enough to take her to San Francisco, or Los Angeles, maybe even fucking Seattle, anywhere, just not here, where the only two things she could feel were numb, or angry. That was all she could allow herself to feel, because the alternative was worse. She did not want to think about those things. She knew she would if she stopped, so she kept on driving, past the Two Whales, past the fisheries, past the homeless woman, foretelling the future, past everything. And then on to Blackwell.

Black Hell, more like. She smiled as she thought that. Everyone already thought of her as the deadbeat dropout dyke, right? That’s what those prep-kid fuckers thought of her, right? That’s what the step-douche thought of her, certainly. Maybe that’s even what fucking Joyce thought, secretly, deep in her head. If everyone was going to leave her, if everyone was going to be flake, if everything would be taken from her, then why not have a fun time while she burnt every single fucking bridge behind her? Arcadia Bay had survived racist white dudes, forest fires, a horrible urban legend in bigfoot, gentrification, the Prescotts, and more. It would survive her being a smart ass, with lame-ass insults for everything. Suck on that, English.

She pulled into the parking lot, taking care to park within the lines. Breathe in, breath the fuck out. She wished she had a gun right now. She should have stolen one from the Step-Fuhrer. He had enough, right? Paranoid clown-fuck narc.

No, she stopped herself, nervously drumming her fingers on the steering wheel. That little bitch had done things to her, while she was drugged, and she was getting those pictures back. That was all. He was a rich kid, right? College all laid out in front of him, with daddy’s connections, and money. He would give her the pictures, pay her the money, and leave. Easy, right? No way he would make any problems, and maybe she could finally have some power over him, as a little revenge. And then she could finally pay off her debts, and leave too. Fuck this town. Be cool.

She checked her watch. She had been here, after all, before she got herself kicked out. She remembered the schedule. The classes would be letting out right now, she knew. Hipster photographer kids would be pulling on their hoodies, and playing annoying songs about America, and bears, and migratory animals, and girls and boys and being sad and twee, she knew. But also, right now, Nathan Prescott would be walking to the lady’s room.

She grinned, despite how much she hated that little shit. As she kicked the creaking truck door open, and strode across the grounds, she thought him. She had made him go to the lady’s room, but that was petty revenge. He had drugged her, and taken pictures of her. He had...her mind shied away from thinking about what he could have done to her. She remembered the boy toy phase, and what a mistake it had been. And then there had been Rachel and she knew it had been a mistake and then he had his hands all over her. She felt unclean, and to hide that feel, she dwelt on her anger. Anger could get her through this, and keep her safe. Think like a man, right? Big, with a gun, doing whatever they wanted? Men would stay angry, and she’d show them that no one could push her around.

Blackwell was easy enough to get into at the worst of times, at night. She could probably force her way in, and go swimming, sometime, if she wanted to. It would be a good date, if she met a cute girl to have a fling with before she blew the town. It was even easier during the day, despite step-fart and his security. Or maybe because of David, really. He was too shitty to be a cop in Arcadia Bay, after all. She simply walked up, towards the school. It was locked, of course, but some weird looking woman in a grey hoodie, probably in her thirties, with a shaved head, and muscled arms, was walking inside, and she didn’t look behind her. She did not make sure the door shut fully behind her. So few people really did, and it was easy to grab it, before it closed, and then she was inside.

She took a deep breath, to brace herself. Screw the internet, the breathing exercises were not working. Count to three, or something. And then move. It was easy enough to avoid people she knew, and especially David. But she could not avoid the memories of this place. Fuck this place, and fuck her nerves. There was the door, and she needed to pull herself together, somehow.

And then she heard him, from the other side. Nathan Prescott, son of rich parents, giving himself a little pep talk. She grinned, despite herself. She could be the tough punk dyke everyone already thought she was, right? Just for a little bit, she could be in control. She could show him, and boss him around, and get what she wanted. She pushed the door in.

“So what do you want?”

He was bent over a sink, all pasty and bug-eyed, like he was going to puke. She looked at him, for just a beat, and decided to pretend like she knew what she was doing.

“I hope you checked the perimeter, as my step-ass would say,” she said, pushing open a few bathroom stalls, just for show. “Now, let’s talk business.”

“I’ve got nothing for you.”

“Wrong,” she said, and she could feel the anger easily now, without having to stoke it, like venom on her tongue, as the words she had learned rolled out of her mouth, “you got hella cash.”

“That’s my family, not me.”

“Oh, boo hoo, poor little rich kid,” she gloated, enjoying the sense of power she had over him, now, the way it felt like revenge, and distracted from the pain of all he had done, “I know you been pumping drugs and shit to kids around here. I bet your respectable family would help me out if I went to them. Man, I can see the headlines now.”

“Leave them out of this, you bitch.”

“I can tell everyone that Nathan Prescott is a punk ass who begs like a little girl, and talks to himself-”

“You don’t know who the fuck I am, or who you’re messing around with,” he interrupted, and just like that all sense of control left.

He had a gun. He had a gun, and was training it on her. She was not in control, and she hated it, and despite herself, and the days spent playing chicken on the train track, after Amber disappeared, she did not want to die, suddenly. She did not want to die right now. She did not have the gun, and he was just another white boy with one, and she hated it. She felt like she was going to puke.

“Where’d you get that?” She babbled, as she backed up into a wall, with her hands in the air. “What are you going to do? Come on, put that thing down.”

In the back of her mind she was dimly aware of a sizzling, burning, sound, and a dim flash in the back of the bathroom. What was back there? But her attention was dragged back to the present, by Nathan.

“Don’t ever tell me what to do,” he said through gritted teeth, as he pushed himself into her. “I am so sick of people trying to control me.”

“You are going to get in hella more trouble than this than drugs,” she said, and she knew that she was pleading for her life, to him, to the universe, to whatever Old Gods of Arcadia Bay might happen to be real, and listening to her, at that moment.

“Nobody would ever miss your punk-ass, would they?” He said, and she felt like time itself had stopped.

Because he was right, wasn’t he? That was the thing she had been blocking out, and numbing herself from feeling. She was a stoner dropout going nowhere. Max had left and never called. Amber had left and never called. William had fucking died. It had to be because of who she was, right? She was just not worth it. She was not worth existing in Arcadia Bay, or the universe. She could die right here, right now, alone and afraid, and no one would ever care. No one would go to her funeral.

Suddenly the fire alarm blared, and she was jolted back to reality, and back to her ever-present, and easy-to-feel anger. Nathan Prescott mumbled something, under his breath that she didn’t quite catch. She didn’t care, either. She kneed him in the balls, just as soon as he moved the gun from her gut, and he collapsed.

“Don’t ever touch me again, freak,” Chloe said.

She left the bathroom fast, before anyone could find her. No money, no cash, no leverage. Just another shitty day.


	2. ...And What Came After

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Emotions are hard, especially when an old friend comes storming back into your life.
> 
> CW for allusions to death.

...And What Came After

“And four hours north of Portland, the radio flips on, and some no one from the future remembers that you're gone.”

-Harlem Roulette, by the Mountain Goats

Chloe Price ran out of the bathroom, towards the exits. No one stopped her, David wasn’t there yet. Then, after shouldering her way through the door, and sprinting to her truck, she stabbed the keys into the lock, pulled the door open, and peeled out of the parking lot, just as the masses of hipster shit started pouring from the doors. No one saw her go.

Gas was expensive, just like weed. Joyce still bought her food and she didn’t have to worry about rent, despite the step-dictator’s attempts, so those were her biggest expenses in the world, aside from the debt hanging over her head for all the repairs on the pickup. But she could not stop herself from driving, burning up gas, as she sped down the winding roads, heading out of town.

The trailer parks, and lighthouses, and billboards slipped away, disappearing behind her, as she passed the city limits. She was going inland, away from the sea. She’d been fucking born there, and everyone thought she’d die there. She nearly had. She nearly had died, back there, in Arcadia Bay, in Blackhell. She would have been shot, David and Joyce would have partied, and no one would have ever remembered her. And for just a moment she wanted that. She had wanted to die, and thought she deserved it.

Did she think that now? She found herself wondering about it, as she climbed the hills, heading inland, and slightly south, towards Portland, a long way away. She flipped on the radio, and listened to some annoying singer with a whiny voice, singing to simple guitar chords about some other singer from the sixties. Did she want to die, she asked herself again, as she flipped the radio back off, and tried to just zone out, and number herself by listening to the wind and the rattle of her tires on the road. She didn’t have any weed on her, and she hated it, and then something snapped inside her.

She pulled off, onto the dirt on the side of the road, under the pines. A herd of deer was there, between the trees, and they looked up at her, as she climbed out, and back into the bed of the pickup. Their ears twitched, but they didn’t move, as she curled up, into the fetal position, her knees tucked against her chest, and cried.

This was why she hated feeling emotions, other than anger. Think like a man, right? You think they curled up on the sides of random roads and cried until the sobs turned into snotty, pathetic gasps? You think they felt like their hearts were being torn out of their chests? Fuck no, they were hella emotionally repressed, so why could she not turn off her emotions? Why couldn’t she be like them? She hated herself, and kept crying.

She cried for her father, taken from her, all because of her, because she didn’t stop him from leaving. She cried for Max, who left her, before she could figure out what their friendship actually meant. She cried for shitty Arcadia Bay. She cried for herself, so close to just dying, and how pathetically she clung to her worthless life. And she cried for Rachel Amber, who had left her, because she was not good enough, because she, Chloe Price, was just a fun experiment in a boring town. Because she had found someone better. Or because she was dead. Wherever she was, as the thoughts and dreads clawed at her mind, Rachel Amber was not with Chloe, and she missed her.

But it was also Rachel Amber, or the thought of her, at least, that dragged her back to reality, as the tears faded into hiccups. Chloe had the box of missing fliers in her truck, next to her, and inside was Rachel’s face, staring back at her. Her perfect, beautiful face. Maybe Chloe was a fuck up, stoner failure, but she couldn’t fail Rachel. Not now. Anger flared inside Chloe, hot and bright, and safe. Think like a man, find a gun. She was still alive, and anger was good. Don’t let anyone see your pain, keep going. Don’t fucking stop.

She climbed out of the bed of the truck, as a crow flapped overhead. She pulled herself into the driver’s seat, and started the engine. She did not have a plan, not really, as she drummed her fingers on the steering wheel. But that had never stopped her before. She pulled back onto the road, making a U-turn, and roaring back towards Arcadia Bay. Anger guided her. Anger kept her going, sustained her, and fed her.

She’d been out in the countryside for too long. Or maybe just long enough. Blackwell would’ve cleared out, and all the hipsters would have gone back to their dorms. They would be listening to more annoying music, watching bad movies, having petty drama, or whatever else it was they did with their free time. Killing plants. It would be safe enough for her to return. She could go back, and double-park, or put up posters, or graffiti a bathroom, or do something. It didn’t matter, and she did not care, so long as she was just doing something.

The tires of her truck squealed, as she pulled into the parking lot, across two different parking spots. Fuck the police. She leapt from her car, grabbed a handful of posters and stalked off to post them around the campus. On the signs, on the walls, over posters for the Vortex Club, and someone looking for pictures of their cat, or some shit. Fuck all of them. Fuck Blackwell, fuck Nathan Prescott, fuck the hipster shitstains that stared at her, as she walked around the campus. They all thought they were better than her, she knew, as she pulled her beanie down on her head, and flipped them off. Fuck the world. Fuck Chloe Price.

She eventually ran out of posters. And people were staring at her. She hated their eyes clawing across her, as she stalked back to her car. She climbed in, and drummed her fingers on the wheel, once again. She could grab more. She could graffiti something. Some kids were behind her, in the parking lot, talking. She did not know what to do.

She cursed, suddenly, seeing David turn a corner, with an expression he only ever had on his face when someone had stood up to him. She turned the keys, put the truck in reverse, and then put the pedal to the floor. Turn the corner, get away, find something.

“Max?” She said, slamming on the brakes, as a weirdly familiar freckled face rose above the hood of her truck.

“Chloe?” Max said.

And then Nathan fucking Prescott was there, shouting something at her, and getting fought by some nerd dude. She had been angry at her, Max, specifically, earlier in the day. She had been angry for leaving, but there she was, with her stupid brown hair, and her stupid freckles, and all Chloe could remember was her best friend, and being a pirate together, and she acted on instinct, pushing the passenger door open. She would help Max, right? That’s the only thing she could do.

“Get in, Max!”

There was a moment of hesitation, running across her face. Like this was some momentous decision, as if this would decide the course of her future, or even the whole fucking universe. And then she was in the truck, and slamming the door behind her, as Nathan fucking Prescott shouted something, and raged outside. Chloe did not care, and she did not want to wait around for David. Pedal to the metal, all gas, no breaks, pull out of Blackhell, with her best fucking friend in the car.

And then it finally started to sink in, the reality and weight of it all, with Max fucking Caulfield back in her life, coming in like a storm.

She’s cute, sitting in her car. Fuck, that was unavoidable. She still had the same mousey brown hair, and the same freckles. Hoodies, stupid hipster bag, probably from those douches in Seattle. She looked like a deer in the headlights though, so timid, and nervous. A part of Chloe wanted to laugh, to let go of the wheel, and throw her arms around her, and tell her everything, about Rachel, and Frank, and the truck, and David, and how much she had missed her, back here in Arcadia Bay.

“Man, Nathan Prescott is messed up, and dangerous,” Max said, looking backwards, and just like that the moment of magic is broken.

“Oh, and thank you Chloe,” Chloe said sarcastically, feeling the anger of five years without a call or a letter coming back. “After five years you’re still Max Caulfield.”

And she was. She was the same cute dork, yes, but also the same person who left her. Those memories of them playing together, growing up together, talking about crushes, and boys, and life, they were too hard for Chloe to separate from the other memories of five years, no letters, no call. That hurt was still there, and that won’t go away quickly. Her emotions all overlapped, confusing her. Anger was simple. Anger was safe. But it was never that simple, was it?

“I…” Max muttered, under her breath.

“Come on, don’t give me that guilt face,” Chloe said, feeling a twinge of guilt, “at least pretend you’re glad to see me.”

“I am seriously glad to see you,” she said, with her gentle, cute, adorable voice, “oh, and thanks Chloe.”

“What did that freak want with you?”

“Hopefully nothing else today. So how do you know Nathan?”

“She’s just another Arcadia asshole,” she said, gliding over the hurt he had caused, and the anger she had felt, before she continued, motivated by an emotion she did not understand. “Your, uh, friend really took a beatdown for you.”

“Warren?” Max replied, with an annoying little smile. “Yeah, I owe him big time.”

“You’re not the only one in debt, and you’re already causing trouble. So I guess Seattle sucked hard?” Chloe asked hopefully.

“I guess,” Max said, like she was taking a moment to decide. “But I felt kinda lonely, out of my league.”

“I thought you’d fit right in with the art school hipsters.”

“Right, you look like the cover of hipster girl dot com,” Max said, and for a moment Chloe nearly smiled, at her incredible and consistent lameness.

“At least you’re still a smartass.”

“That’s why I’m here,” she smiled.

“Please, girl,” Chloe said, her emotions all welling up inside her, again, overlapping and confusing her, “you came back for Blackwell Academy.”

“Of course.”

“So you came back for Mark Jefferson,” Chloe said, anger starting to take over her, “not your best friend?”

“Don’t you think I’m happy to see you?”

“No,” she snapped, suddenly. “You were happy to wait five years without a call, or even a text.”

“I didn’t have a phone all that time, or order my parents to move, or the economy to crash, all just to screw you over,” she protested.

“The students have been at Blackwell for almost a month and you haven’t contacted me,” Chloe said, leaning against the open window, as she cruised down the road, trying not to think about the bathroom, and dying. “Enough said.”

“I just wanted to settle in first, and not be such a shy cliche geek,” Max protested.

“I bet you don’t use these sad excuses on Mr. Jefferson, don’t use them on me, Max,” Chloe replied.

There was a soft lull, in the conversation, and Chloe felt her anger turn into regret. Was she being too hard on Max? Or was her anger justified? She did not know. It was five years of regret, and self-hatred. Was her memory of Max even distinguishable from all those years ago? Did she even deserve Max back in her life? She had no fucking answers, and her emotions did not make any sense, so she tried not to dwell on them, as they passed a woman walking along the side of the road in a grey hoodie.

“Broken,” Max said, breaking the silence, as she reached into her bag and pulled out a camera. “Oh man, are you cereal?”

“Oh, wow,” Chloe said, still in awe of how lame she was, “haven’t heard that one in awhile.”

“Not everything changes,” Max said, before launching off into talking about her camera, and tools.

“I have tools at my house,” Chloe offered, suddenly feeling the need to extend a bridge, to reconnect to someone, to try to have a friend, someone she cared about again, after all these years. “Come with me. And...welcome home, Max.”

She looked at Chloe, and for a moment there was something in her face, a hope, a light, or a regret. And then it left, and she was just Max again, the same as she had ever been, and Chloe was still Chloe, the same self-destructive, unworthy piece of shit, and Arcadia Bay was still hell. Outside the truck the sun was golden, and bright, like the world was good, and just, and fair, even if it wasn’t.

What would she do, if she could go back, and take it all back? For some reason, Chloe felt like herself asking that. Would she do something different in the bathroom? Would she do something different Max? Would Max? She was filled with regret, or anger, or some emotion she did not understand. She just wanted to be numb.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did anyone ever think that, like, probably an hour or more went by between the bathroom and the incident in the parking lot? Anywhere, here's something that might've happened, and also probably the closest to just straight up retelling canon this fic will ever get. Next update you'll probably start seeing more divergences, although some have already slipped in.
> 
> Enjoy!


	3. Powerless

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chloe deals with the step-homophobe and the deviation from canon becomes clear.
> 
> CW for mention of death, and homophobia.

Powerless

“And whether or not it is clear to you, no doubt the universe is unfolding as it should.”

-From “Desiderata,” by Max Ehrmann, 1948

Chloe Price lay on her bed, smoke lazily drifting in a little, wispy cloud above her, as the light filtered down through the window, and played across the clutter and confusion of her room, and its contents. She felt comfortable here, a little hazy, a little numb. Good shit in a good place, despite David’s attempts. But through the haze she still watched Max, through half-closed eyes, as she wandered around.

She was still just as fucking cute as she was when she was a kid, Chloe thought, even if she had become a bit of a downer. No cool stories about pictures, or Seattle. And she had broken Chloe’s snow globe. She was nosy too, poking around, prying into the graffiti, the old pictures, the drawing she had saved. And despite it all, like old wounds reopening, or picking at a scab, painful and satisfying all at once, Chloe had started to talk to her, told her about Amber, and six months before, and the disappearance, and everything else. It hurt, and she needed a moment alone, to catch her breath, and numb the pain, as Max got her tools, and maybe poked around and judged her for the Prozac stashed in the bathroom. Fucking nosy downer. What were they now, even? They had been best friends, once. But what sort of relationship was that, used to be best friends?

And now she was back, sitting at her desk, sighing in frustration. The storm of emotions inside Chloe resurfaced through the numbness, and the haze, just for a moment, settling on something like concern, despite herself, as she got up and walked across the cluttered room to her once best friend.

“Are these your new photos?” Chloe asked, as she looked at them spread out across the desk, trying to remember her old photography lessons at Blackwell.

“Yeah, I, uh, took them today,” Max replied, putting down her tools.

“Wait, I’ve seen this before,” Chloe said, suddenly serious, as she picked up a picture of a bucket, and a blue butterfly, in front of a familiar bathroom. “When did you take this?”

“Uh,” Max began, as everything clicked into place for Chloe.

“In the bathroom today,” Chloe said, suddenly realizing the reason why she was not dead, “you set off the alarm. That’s why Nathan raged after you, it totally makes sense. You hella saved my life. Now tell me the truth, Max.”

“I was there,” she replied, looking worried, “but, uh, I don’t remember it? Not much at least?”

“What? That doesn’t make sense.”

“I was in the corner,” she said, uncertainly, like she was still piecing it together herself. “I took a butterfly photo, I remember. And then it was like...I blacked out? Almost like someone else, maybe multiple people, were in control. Like someone reached out, and then, well, I woke up, with the alarm going off? And I guess you were there, too, during the black out. And then afterwards a bunch of other stuff happened, with Warren and this, uh, other friend of mine, Kate, and stuff. It doesn’t make sense, I know, but it felt like someone else popped into my head, and acted instead of me.”

“The Old Gods of Arcadia Bay,” Chloe muttered under her breath, remembering the stupid prayer she had thought, at the last moment.

“What?”

“Nothing, just a thought. You’re a badass, Max,” Chloe began, before pivoting to worry about protecting herself. “So I guess you don’t know what happened with me and Nathan, do you?”

“No, not really,” she said, looking confused.

“He pulled a gun on me,” Chloe started hesitantly, “I’ll tell you more, soon, but for now, I really owe you, Max.”

She stopped, and paused, looking for words, her mind lost on strange thoughts of Old Gods and prayers. She did owe Max, though, so, still lost in thought, she turned, bent down, and picked up a gift to offer her.

“What’s this?”

“My dad’s old camera,” Chloe began, finding words, with some amount of awkwardness. “I know it was your birthday last month, and I want you to have it.”

“That’s so cool you remembered my birthday, but I can’t take this.”

“Of course you can,” Chloe said, pushing the camera back towards her, their hands touching, briefly, before she pulled back, away to safety, “my dad would be pissed if I never used it, and now I know it’ll be used awesomely. And I’ll snag the picture of the butterfly as the symbol of our reunion. Cool?”

“Yes, of course it’s cool,” Max said, and Chloe felt herself smiling along with her, openly, and honestly. “Thank you, this camera is so sweet.”

“Now that we got that mushy shit out of the way,” Chloe said suddenly, trying to move on from whatever feeling she flushing through her face, right now, “I feel like stage diving, let’s thrash this place!”

They danced together, the two girls, or the two young women, rather. The sunlight drifted lazily down through the upside-down American flag, the international symbol of distress, and slanted through the smoke. Chloe stood on her bed, dancing aimlessly, but still better than Max shaking her booty, as she would say. She kept dancing, as the hippie looking girl took her picture but for just another moment, Chloe wondered if she looked confident, and hot, with her blue hair, and her suspenders, and her bra exposed over her low-cut tank top. That was why she tried so hard, right, to look hot, and confident and badass all at once?

And Chloe was also watching Max too, as Max watched her. She was so scrawny, and small. But in a cute sort of dorky way.

And then the magic moment was over.

“Chloe are you up there?”

“Yo, turn it off, turn it off,” Chloe said hurriedly.

“How many times have I told you to stop blasting that punk shit,” David’s voice said from downstairs, distant and loud, just like him.

“Dude the music’s not even on! Asshole.”

“I’m coming up, we need to talk.”

And just like that, the good mood Chloe had been in, the light haze, vanished, and she was worried and anxious again. What the fuck would David do if he found Max here? He was already affecting her shit brain, despite not believing in psychiatry, and she did not need yet another fucking lecture about “looking like a dyke” or “giving people bad impressions.” On top of everything else getting fucked up in her life she definitely did not want her step-father to find her with a girl in her bedroom.

“No fucking way,” she settled for saying, muttering to Max. “You need to hide, my step-dad will kill me if he finds you here.”

“Chloe, what’s going on? Open this door please,” his voice said, now from the other side of the door, grating against Chloe’s already fraying nerves.

“Chill, I’m changing, is that okay?” She shouted, her back to the door, before hissing. “Max, find a place to hide, now.”

“Chloe, what are you doing? Chloe, you’re stalling,” David shouted again, banging on the door, as the handle rattled.

“One second, my bra is stuck,” she said, stalling for time, as she watched Max hopelessly wander around the room, and wished her old had-once-been-a-best-friend moved just a little faster.

“I’m giving you exactly three seconds to open the door,” David said, as Max accidentally dropped even more of her stuff on the floor. “Three, two, one.”

“Shit.”

“What’s going on in here? What is she doing here?” David said, marching in with his big stupid fash boots, and Chloe hated the way he looked at Max, his eyes clawing across her, up and down.

“None of your business,” she said, crossing her arms defensively, as if she could dare him to think that she, Chloe Price, was personally fucking some hipster dork chick.

“I don’t like strangers here.”

“Stop freaking, she’s not a stranger, she’s a friend,” Chloe said naturally, and suddenly she knew she meant it, Max was a friend, not just someone she used to know, a used-to-be-best-friend.

“One of my guns is missing,” he barked suddenly. “Did you take it?”

“Oh god, I didn’t take your stupid gun,” she said, acting casual, rebellious, defiant, and like problem child, just like he expected her to act, before throwing in one last barb to get under his skin. “You do know I believe in gun control?”

“Wait is that grass?” He said, grabbing at her weed, and gesturing with it. “You been toking up again in here?”

“Oh yeah, guns, weed? You’re tripping balls.”

“I am sick of your disrespect, tell me the truth, that’s an order!”

“It’s not my pot,” Chloe said, looking for an out, and without thinking about it, using the first one her eyes came across. “It’s from Max.”

“Is this true?”

There was a single second that seemed to drag on longer, as he held the weed out to her, in which Max made steady eye-contact with her. Chloe felt guilty, for just a moment. She was her old friend, no, Max was her friend currently, and in the present, and she had just blamed her. But she could not say any of that. She could only look at her, silently asking her for help, to not get her in trouble, and rat her out.

“Uh, yeah, my pot,” she said.

“How about if I call the police?” David began, as Chloe sighed, and then felt anger suddenly bloom in her as he started poking Max in the chest. “You don’t have anything smart to say now, do you?”

“Get the hell away from her, man,” Chloe said, pulling him back, the anger suddenly and sharply turning to a protective urge she could not remember feeling for a long time. “Stop harassing my friends!”

“You don’t have any friends.”

A few hours ago, in the bathroom, praying to whatever was out there in the universe listening to her, Chloe would have believed him. She would have believed that no one cared, that she had no friends. But Max had saved her life, and taken the heat for her, and even if she was an asshole for not calling, she was still a friend. Fuck David.

“Like you know,” she spat, taking her place between Max and the dangerous white man in the room, in a way that felt right, and felt natural, “you’re not even a real cop, you’re a fucking security guard!”

“I was a soldier, Chloe,” he said, dourly, before he left. “And Max, if I see you here again, you’ll learn all about real trouble.”

“Thanks for taking the heat for me,” Chloe began, after flipping off the wanna-be fascist, smiling like an idiot, she knew, as she felt strangely warm. “We totally smacked his punk-ass down. He’s no match for us now, that was an epic win! Anyway, let’s sneak out the window, there’s one cool place we can hide in this hickhole. You, uh, okay?”

“Yeah,” Max said, after a moment of silence that dragged on just a beat too long. “Just weirdly lightheaded. Since the bathroom, since I blacked out and apparently rang the bell and saved your life there have been these weird moments. Almost like, well, I don’t really know how to explain it.”

“Huh, weird,” Chloe said, as Max sat down on her bed, beside her, just a hair closer than was truly comfortable. “You okay? Hit your head? What are you thinking about, Max Caulfield?”

“Ah, just boring stuff, wondering what David will do. You ever wish you could go back, change things?”

“Yeah, all the damn time,” Chloe said, reaching out a hand, and then pulling it back. “But hey, even if you could, I wouldn’t want you to take back standing up to step-dick. You were pretty fucking cool, Max.”

“Not as cool as you,” she said, smiling, before getting up, and walking towards the window.

“Well, that’s ‘cause no one is as cool as me,” Chloe said, smiling at her back, as she too stood up.

“And no one is as humble as you, either, I’m guessing. You gonna follow me out this window, like we dared each other to when we were kids? Or not?”

“Yeah, follow you anywhere, smartass.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Listen, David was a vet in 2013, stocking up guns and talking about "doobies" there is no way he wasn't at least a little homophobic.
> 
> Also, for those of you who read "Et in Arcadia Ego" I feel comfortable enough telling you that this timeline was created by that Chloe and Max making the last jump back, and collectively deciding to save Chloe's life. This is the timeline that resulted, where neither one developed powers, and Max didn't remember that crucial moment. Everything else is trying to keep to canon, so Kate's still Kate, Victoria's still Victoria, etc. Mostly. There's uhhhhh also stuff planned. You'll see.
> 
> Though it may get weird.
> 
> And if you didn't read that fic, don't worry. AU, no powers, strange blackouts, occasional spottings of a woman in a grey hoodie, people talk about weird stuff sometimes, that about sums it up. Canon will continue to diverge without powers, from here on out, naturally.


	4. Future Imperfect

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A conversation at a lighthouse we've seen before, until it's different.
> 
> CW for mention of death and homophobia.

Future Imperfect

“Stuck on this dead end street, where all the new kids come to play. Stuck where past and future meet, watching all our autumns drift away.”

-“Die Anywhere Else,” from Night in the Woods.

“So tell me about Seattle?” Chloe asked, as the two girls walked down the side of the quiet street, away from the house.

“What about it?”

“I don’t know, Max,” Chloe sighed, “I haven’t seen you in five fucking years, and I’m trying to catch up. Make small talk, you know? Start with how’s Seattle maybe? Or how are you parents?”

“They’re fine, found jobs again, even if it took them a bit on unemployment. We’re still living in a kinda crummy, small apartment, but I like it well enough. The neighborhood, and all that, not too far from the Fremont Troll, it’s cute enough, if you explore a bit. I’ve gotten some really good pictures out by the troll, when the tourists are gone, and it’s all weird and misty and quiet.”

“Right,” Chloe said, walking ahead of her, as they crossed the main street of Arcadia Bay, heading towards the shore, not caring about whatever the Fremont Troll was, “but, like, what about you personally? Friends?”

“Like I said earlier,” Max said, frustratingly vague, and illusive, as she shrugged, “cliche shy geek girl. Guys always think I’m either their manic pixie dream girl, or a fake nerd. And girls, like, I don’t know what it is about them, but they aren’t like you. I always get nervous, or they start talking about stuff I just do not get.”

Chloe looked back, as the other girl crossed the road, pulling her hoodie around her, against the chill that the taller girl ignored. The light of the sun setting out over the Pacific, filtering through the pines, played across Max’s face, and for a second Chloe wondered what the fuck that meant.

“You remember this?” Chloe settled for saying, gesturing to the trail leading up the hill, through the trees.

“Yeah, of course! How could I forget? We used to walk up here all the time, pretending we were pirates together.”

“Arr, that we did, matey. Ahem, forget I just said that. Come on.”

“After you.”

The trek up the hill was long, but relaxing, all the same. It was growing cooler, but Chloe forced herself to not show it. That was how it was, right? Act tough, be rad. Around them squirrels played, and chattered, and birds flew off at their approach, escaping off into the distance, free of the gravity of Arcadia Bay. A doe fled at their approach, off into the dense pines. She did not realize how far ahead of Max she was, until they were almost at the lighthouse.

“Isn’t this awesome sauce!” Chloe shouted, caught up in the wind, and the sunlight, and a sudden good mood. “Totally reminds me of when we were kids. Come on, slowpoke!”

“Hold on!” Max, clearly out of shape from her days in bougie Seattle, shouted back, as Chloe grinned.

She walked on, ahead of Max, past the map, with its old graffiti, and the remnants of lame parties, to the bench at the edge of the cliff, under the safety of the lighthouse. That building had been built back in the early nineteen-hundreds, she thought, as she slouched down, if she remembered her history accurately. A beacon of safety up and down the coast, guiding people home.

Behind Chloe, Max poked around the base of the structure, being her usual nosy self, always looking at everything before moving on. Not that Chloe minded. Not at the moment, at least. She felt great, despite crossing her arms for warmth against the chill of the wind. The sunlight was golden, and the sunset beautiful, and blinding. With its light in her eyes it almost hid the shitstain that was Arcadia Bay.

“I’m glad I’m alive,” she muttered, so quietly that no one would ever hear.

“Sure you don’t want to be alone?” Max said, as she finally sat down beside her.

“Have a seat, Pete,” Chloe said, almost immediately regretting how lame it sounded in her ears.

“My pleasure,” she said, and the word pleasure sounded good when she said it. “Feels nice out here, after all the drama.”

“You really took one for team Chloe,” Chloe said, and she meant it.

“I’m not as brave as you,” she said, downplaying herself, “and David is indeed a step-douche.”

“I’m sorry you had to experience it first hand.”

“You have to live with him. Has he always been this way?”

A homophobic, wanna-be dictator, lost off in conspiracy land? Chloe wanted to ask it, but settled for something else.

“Ever since my desperate mom dragged his ass to our home. I never trusted David.”

“He freaked out on poor Kate Marsh today,” Max said, the name ringing a bell.

“I know her, she’s cool. Only that prick would bully her.”

“He has some sort of weird agenda.”

“He has a lot of secret files. Rambo still thinks he’s gathering enemy intelligence. Did you take a peek?”

She paused for a moment, like she was making some sort of decision. Chloe glanced up, just for a moment, liking the way the wind caught her hair, before she looked back over the sea again.

“I wish. You know I would’ve read them.”

“I’d love to. They must be important, or he wouldn’t hide them deep in his garage bunker.”

“He kinda creeps me out. I bet the truth is out there in his files,” Max said, knowingly or unknowingly drawing on the X-Files.

“Most likely, but it’s good you didn’t find them. He would go ballistic. Totally has a surveillance fetish. I worry there are spy-cams in the house.”

“I knew you didn’t know,” Max said, confirming all of Chloe’s worst paranoia. “Chloe, your house is under surveillance. He’s got cameras all over.”

“I knew it! He’s so hella fucking paranoid. No wonder I’m so miserable, everyone in this town knows everyone’s secrets.”

There was another of those pauses, pregnant, like Max was choosing her words carefully, before she spoke.

“Even yours?” She said, quietly.

“Not any more,” Chloe said bitterly, thinking of Amber.

“So what do you have on Nathan?”

“He’s an elite asshole who sells bad shit cut with laxative,” Chloe said, the words spilling out to her friend before she could stop them, as she said them for the first time to another living person. “And he dosed me with some drug in his room.”

“What? Just tell me what happened Chloe, now.”

Chloe paused. Max was being nosy, yet again, digging into her life like she was entitled to it. But at the same time she was a friend. She had saved Chloe’s life, and her ass. She had been her best friend. Maybe she still was, in some way. She had told this story to no one, since it happened a few days before. How could she tell Joyce that she had been given date-rape drugs? How could she tell David that a man had had his hands all over her, and she hated it so much, was sick of men, and any attention they ever paid her, and their stupid guns, and all their fucking shit. But Max was different. She felt like a lighthouse, safe, so the story started, and she didn’t stop it.

“I was an idiot,” she said quietly. “He was in a shithole bar that didn’t card me. I thought he was so blazed it would be an easy score.”

“You needed money that bad?”

“Actually yes. I owe big time, and I thought I’d have enough for me and Rachel if she showed up.”

“How much do you owe?” Max said, after another of those heavy pauses.

“Three grand plus interest. And before I could get a chunk of that from Nathan he dosed my drink with some shit. I passed out on a floor. I woke up and that perv was smiling and crawling towards me with a camera,” Chloe said, not really able to put into words the hurt she felt, even just talking about it, the violation of it, the feeling of his hands still on her. “Everything was a blur. I tried to kick him in the balls and broke a lamp. Nathan freaked and I managed to bum rush the door, and get the hell out. Max, it was insane.”

“Chloe,” she said, and the hurt, and tenderness in her voice made Chloe glad she had finally told the truth to someone, to her, Max, in particular, “that is so fucked up. What did you do then?”

“I figured I would make him pay me to keep quiet,” Chloe said, glossing over the puking, and the hours in the shower, and the anger, and the rage, and the self-loathing, and desperation at realizing this might be her only way to ever get the money she needed. “So we met in the bathroom.”

“And he brought a gun?”

“That was Nathan’s last mistake.”

“He’s still dangerous, Chloe.”

“Good thing you couldn’t tell anyone about it, with your blackout and all. You saved me.”

“I don’t remember it, Chloe,” she said, softly, looking out to sea, as Chloe turned and looked at her.

“But you still saved me. Like a fucking answered prayer. I’m still tripping on that. It has to mean something, seeing you after all these years feels like...I don’t know.”

“Destiny?” Max hazarded, looking back, and putting a hand on Chloe’s back, where her hand just barely touched the skin above her tank top.

The emotions inside Chloe changed, like an ever raging storm, with no safe harbor, no lighthouse guiding Chloe home. Suddenly she was thinking about Amber again. If she was still alive, because she needed to be, needed to be breathing, then she never would have seen Chloe again, if Max hadn’t been there, to save her from yet another boy with a gun. She had been so close to dying, and she missed Amber so much. She stood up, as if to run away from the emotion, and walked to the very edge of the cliff.

“If this is destiny, if some god out there is planning all this, I hope we can find Rachel. I miss her Max. This shit-pit has taken away everyone I’ve ever loved. I’d like to drop a bomb on Arcadia Bay and turn it to fucking glass.”

Chloe’s nihilistic rant was cut off, suddenly, as Max bent over, clutching her head in her hands. The rage, and anger that had been building in her, safe to experience, after the sadness of it all, was suddenly replaced with a new emotion. She felt protective, once again, like she had to keep Max safe, and she did not know what to do.

And then suddenly Max was standing upright again, and looking around like she had just woken up.

“Wait, this can’t be right,” she said, and despite it being Max, and speaking with Max’s voice, she sounded off, different, calmer, more adult, if confused.

“Max, you, uhh, alright?” Chloe said, lost and unsure what to do.

“Wait, wait, wait,” she said, scrunching the bridge of her nose, “this is the lighthouse, sunset, the town’s still here, and you still have the blue hair, so, okay, this has to be the first day after we met again? After I saved you in the bathroom this morning, right? Fuck, why am I here? Time travel is bullshit.”

“What the fuck are you talking about, Max?” Chloe said, suddenly scared, and afraid, as she drew back.

“Wait, still figuring this out,” she said, holding up her hand, and waving it in front of her. “No powers in this timeline, huh? Alright, I can do this. I got this. Right, Chloe, in a few seconds I’m not going to remember any of this, so listen up. I’m Max from the future and I’m here to save...fuck.”

She doubled over again, like she was going to vomit, or having the world’s worst migraine, and despite herself, and the fear of contact between them, Chloe reached out, to hold her.

“Max, shit, are you okay?”

“Chloe? Oh lord,” Max said, scared, her voice different, back to the way it normally was, not the intense professionalism she had shown a moment before, “I blacked out again. Just like in the bathroom.”

“You don’t remember what you were saying?”

“No, fuck, what was I saying? Is this like when I pulled the fire alarm? Things I don’t remember? Can’t? It felt like something else was in control of me. What did I say, Chloe? Tell me!”

“Some shit about, like, time travel, and the future, and saving something,” Chloe said, helping the shorter girl to the ground, as her nose began to bleed. “And, like, it didn’t sound like you. Like it was still your voice, but not, like, not you you. Not shy geek girl cliche, with cute freckles you. Not best friend you. Adult. Kinda scary.”

“Okay, so, like you’re secretly a geek with a great imagination, right?” Max said desperately. “Like, on the side you watch video games, or anime, or something, right? Or you’re just high?”

“Max,” Chloe said, her voice intense, and focused on the face of the other girl, “I am not joking.”

“What the hell?”

For a second Chloe didn’t see what the other girl was looking at, as she turned away from her. And then she saw it. It was in the seventies, probably, windy, yes, but it was still warm. And snow was falling from the scattered clouds above, gently wafting down on Arcadia bay in big heavy flakes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh hey, look, it's weird stuff, and also the chapter that is hopefully most just copying canon, since, you know, I don't want to just do that.
> 
> Enjoy!


	5. Issues

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chloe deals with her mom, her brain, and the future, all on a quiet morning in a diner.
> 
> CW for discussion of mental illness.

Issues

“As a civilization we sit in a circle and we describe the shape of the monster that is devouring us. We hope, like a talisman, that our description will provide some shelter against it. It won't though.”

-Alice Isn’t Dead, “Charlatan.”

Chloe Price woke up late, as usual. It turned out that even the fear and excitement caused by nearly dying at the hands of a would-be pervert, then talking to some weird fucked up version of your best friend, and then having snow fall on your shithole town was not enough to wake her up early. She cursed, shot Max a quick text about being late for their breakfast, and then got baked, staring at the ceiling, trying not to think about snow, or time travel, or Rachel fucking Amber.

Once she was done doing that she stumbled awkwardly out of her room, and hovered at the top of the stairs. She had not had the will nor the desire to shower last night, and was still wearing the same clothes she had worn the day before. She sniffed herself. Shit, she should at least wash her face, and put on some deodorant, she didn’t want to look like complete white trash around Max, for some reason. And also probably change into different clothes. Well, at least a different bra, and maybe a tank top too.

Once she was done doing that, and a little more alert and awake, she walked out to the road, hopped in her truck, and started driving towards the Two Whales. Arcadia Bay was the same as it had been yesterday, when she was driving into town to get the money from Nathan. But despite herself, it felt different, and brighter today. Fucking embarassing how good a mood she was in, Chloe thought. Apparently nearly dying can have that effect. Or maybe the hipster dork herself was making the town less of a complete shithole just by returning, and fucking gracing it with her presence.

She pulled onto the side of the road, tires climbing the sidewalk, across from the Two Whales. The cops could try to ticket her, if they fucking dared. Fuck the police. She slammed the door behind her, made sure to pull on her beanie, and hoped that her swagger was cool, and confident, before she strode into the diner.

“Mom and Max, together again,” she said, walking up to Joyce, and Max, sitting in one of the booths.

“And Chloe, looking for a free meal. You’ve put your whole damn college fund on your tab,” her mom said.

“I’m treating Chloe for breakfast,” Max interjected, in that being the worlds fucking best friend.

“Are you atoning for yesterday?” Joyce said sarcastically.

“Oh god, mom, please do not give Max any shit for that, she apologized,” Chloe said, feeling a sudden twinge of guilt for yesterday. “She’s too old for a lecture from you or Sergeant Pepper.”

“Call him David if you don’t want to get lectured,” Joyce said, turning and leaving. “You only get one damn slice of bacon a day.”

“You guys are still the same,” Max said, with a cute little giggle.

“Another reason to blow this town. What is this shit on the jukebox?” Chloe said, walking over, and finding some good shit to play, before plopping her ass down into the seat across from Max.

She swung her feet around, and looked at her friend, trying to remember exactly what she had said the night before, in her weird, different, adult voice.

“Are you gonna say anything. Or just stare at me?” Max said, finally.

“Listen, like, dude, you don’t get it. I fucking almost believed you when you blacked out yesterday, that you were really Max from the future, or some shit.”

“This isn’t a game, Chloe,” Max said, seriously, but with a different tone in her voice, “time travel isn’t real, I don’t have powers, that’s...not how any of this works.”

“Then how do you fucking explain the snow yesterday? That shit doesn’t just fucking happen.”

“Maybe it does, I’m not Warren, I don’t know meteorology.”

“Yeah yeah, forget about your dude friend,” Chloe said, waving her off, annoyed for some reason. “Snow doesn’t happen on a day like yesterday. And you had a nosebleed. And more than that I know what I saw and what I fucking heard. You gonna fucking trust me, your best friend, or not?”

“I don’t know, I trust you,” she said, rubbing the back of her neck, “but it’s just a lot, okay? Is that good enough for now?”

“Fine,” Chloe sighed, “but only ‘cause it’s so batshit crazy and insane. Still, we have to talk about this, Max.”

“Talk about what, Chloe?” Joyce asked, interrupting, as she walked back with Chloe’s food.

“Just boys and shit, mom,” she said sarcastically.

“That might work for David, but for me you probably want to find a more plausible excuse. How’s the food, Max?” Joyce asked, turning to the shorter girl.

“Even better than I remember,” Max said, her old smooth, charming self.

“Very good save.”

“Man, I am hungry like the wolf,” Chloe said, digging into her food.

“Clearly.”

“But seriously, like, I am freaking out, Max. You told me that you were from the future during your last black out, and you were here to save...something. That last part got cut off by a migraine, I think.”

“What do you think I was here to save?”

There was a brief moment of noise in the normally quiet diner, as Joyce started arguing with someone, a siren wailed across the street, and the jukebox went crazy but after it Chloe continued.

“I had some thoughts last night, first, not to be a dick, but maybe you were here to save me. Like, I know that’s annoying, but you did save my life during your first blackout. But that’s not what I really hope.”

“What do you really hope?” Max said, leaning in across the table, her face just slightly closer than socially appropriate to Chloe.

“I think that this future you might be going to her past, our present, to save Rachel Amber.”

“Chloe,” Max said gently, like she was afraid of letting her down.

“Hey, don’t pity me,” Chloe said, pulling back, before catching her tongue. “Sorry, sorry, have a temper, you know. Tell you what, let’s go to one of my secret lairs, we can talk it over, and figure out how we’re going to take down step-douche, find Rachel, and figure out the secrets of time travel all at once.”

“I’m busy, Chloe. I don’t know if I have time.”

“Hey, I’m your best friend, remember?” Chloe said, feeling defensive, and the start of the familiar anger blooming in her chest. “You owe me.”

“Fine.”

They were both out of the booth, done with their food, and nearly out the door when Max’s phone buzzed.

“Don’t even answer,” Chloe said, trying to get excited, “we have places to go and people to do. Come on, before mom starts some more shit, let’s bail.”

“It’s Kate Marsh, from Blackwell,” Max said, and Chloe felt a stab of jealousy, that feeling that she was once again being rejected for being a fuck up.

“Big whoop. You don’t call me once in five years, and now you’re all over some bitch you see everyday at school? I see how you roll, go ahead, chat up Kate Marsh from Blackwell,” Chloe said, hating herself, and her temper, even as she said it, before continuing into a lie. “I’ve got other people to hang out with too.”

“Hey, Kate,” Max began, picking up her phone, and turning away from her.

“Please, don’t let your best friend get in the way,” Chloe said, feeling like crying, and settling on anger to keep herself from tears, which would be just too fucking embarassing.

“Chloe,” Joyce said, under her breath, as she walked up to her, and Max talked on the phone, “do not screw this up?”

“Don’t screw up what, mom?”

“Max is a nice young woman, and she deserves respect.”

“Right, she deserves better than some punk bitch like me, all fucked up in her head? Was that what you were going to say?”

“Just keep her safe, Chloe, and don't hurt her,” Joyce said, turning and walking away.

“Thanks, Max,” Chloe said, her frustration building, as she put her hand on her hips, and Max got off her phone. “If you’d rather chill with Kate please go ahead.”

“You are ridiculous,” Max said gently, and Chloe felt her frayed nerves soothing, “I’m chilling with you.”

“For now, let’s rock.”

Max caught up with her halfway across the road. Just as Chloe saw the ticket on her windshield.

“Chloe, are you okay?” Max said, as the taller girl grabbed the bit of paper, and tore it up, before jumping into the driver’s side seat.

“Yeah, get it, I’m fine.” Chloe said, trying stubbornly to hold onto the last flames of her anger.

“Bullshit, I may have not seen you in years but I can still tell when you aren’t fine. Is it about Kate? ‘Cause she’s going through a lot, and I’m worried about her, and wanted to make sure she was okay before we chill.”

“No,” Chloe said, pulling a U-turn, and heading out of town. “Well, sort of, I guess. Jesus, that makes me sound like a complete dick, doesn’t it? Like, I kinda lied in there. I don’t really have any friends, like David said the other day. Except for you. And I got issues. I get jealous really easy, and angry, and it felt like you were leaving me. Again. Sorry, I know that doesn’t make sense.”

“I mean,” Max began, looking out towards the sea, “I know that mental health is shit. It’s okay, I forgive you. If you can just let me be friends with Kate Marsh, and other people, and also be friends with you?”

“Yeah, yeah, sure,” Chloe said, gruffly, hoping the rasping in her voice would hide any emotion. “It’s just, like, mom talked with me, and it was fucking exactly what I was fucking afraid of.”

“What were you afraid of?”

“Like, when you left, I really got it in my head that the reason you left was that I wasn’t good enough for you. You were Max, all smart, and nerdy, and too good for this hicktown, so you had to leave for Seattle, and leave me behind. And then when my brain started acting up it was just another reason for me to believe that Chloe Price is fucked up, just like everyone says. That Max Caulfield got out when she could, good for her.”

“Chloe,” Max said, reaching a hand over and laying it on her shoulder, as she drove. “I didn’t leave because of you. You know that, right? It was jobs, and everything.”

“Yeah, yeah, I intellectually know that, but, like, brain’s fucked up, right? Not that we can afford therapy, if the step-fuhrer even believed in it, but I still know, and have looked up enough stuff online to know that my brain is fucked. So I can tell myself all I want that you really left ‘cause you were a kid, and kids can’t choose what their parents do, but, like, fuck, I don’t always emotionally believe it, right?”

“I know,” Max said, and there was a strange distant look about her. “Chloe, is there anything I can do?”

“Yeah, be my best friend again? Stick with me, while we deal with whatever the fuck is going on with you in the future, and the blackouts, and the snow, and Rachel, and step-dildo, and my debt, and whatever else?”

“Absolutely. Max et Chloe contra mundum.”

“Yeah, whatever that means. But also pinky promise?”

“Hell yeah, pinky promise, best friends forever.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not really much to say about this one, trying to keep myself to only one chapter a day that I'm posting, although I have the next written, and will probably right more. Enjoy!


	6. Desolation Angels

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another blackout, another near death experience.
> 
> CW for discussions of death and suicidality.

Desolation Angels

“You little Kerouac, always running like Dean and Sal, always waiting for a freight train, always looking for a story to tell.”

-“Lookers,” by The Menzingers.

America was more like the legacy of eight or nine different countries in a trenchcoat, all pretending to cooperate, Chloe had thought, one night, when she was way, way too fucked up for even her own comfort. There was no single part of America that was unique to it. Other countries had scrap heaps, and dumps before America, they had beer, and bottles, and guns, and even cute hipsters weren’t uniquely American. But, she held onto the thought, deep in her heart, where she would never tell anyone, that if you blurred them all together, just right, then you got something uniquely American. Arcadia Bay was a shitstain, hickhole heaven, built by angry men with guns, but for a little bit, with the gun, and the beer, and Max, with all the rusting cars around them, it was just a bit closer to paradise.

Even if it turned out she was a horrible shot.

And then Frank had to show up, with his stink, and his fucking bracelet. Rachel’s bracelet. Why the fuck did he have that bracelet? And despite Max turning out to be secretly a badass, once again, without even a blackout, this time, holding a gun on Frank, the secret lair felt a whole lot less secret, and Chloe wanted out.

So they had left, walking along the train tracks. Part of Chloe wanted to talk to Max about what this place meant to her. She wanted to say that if you laid your head on the rails on a good night you could hear the quiet whispers of trains miles away, like they were speaking to each other in some alien language. But she couldn’t say that without thinking about the bad nights, the lonely ones after Amber left, when she would play chicken with the trains. Daring them to get closer, not caring if she lived, wanting to die. So instead she reached out, as she walked along the tracks, just for balance, for something to hold onto, keep her safe, in this upside down world. And she found Max’s hand.

Despite the comfort of it, Chloe knew, on some instinctive level, that Max was scared, and rattled by encounter. And like before, Chloe felt a new emotion, a strange one, an overwhelming desire to protect her. So at her suggestion, they had laid down on the train tracks, side by side, staring up at the clouds above, making idle chatter, about pirates, and the past, and Frank Bowers.

“Hung out,” Max hazarded, something strange, and guarded about her, “do you mean…?”

“No,” Chloe spat out, at once reminded of Nathan, and wondering why the fuck Max would think she would have sex with a man, and why she would even be asking that, “gross, man, he never even tried. I just made the mistake of borrowing money so Rachel and I could bail out of here.”

“That’s it?”

“No, I want to know how Frank got Rachel’s bracelet,” Chloe said, the idea of her bracelet on his arm stinging at her chest, fraying her nerves. “What do you think?”

“I think we need to be careful,” Max said, the light and shadow playing across her, as Chloe watched, “and keep an eye on this guy, without him eyeballing us, okay?”

“It’s so weird to be talking about this with you,” Chloe said, the words tumbling out of her mouth before she could shove her foot in it. “We haven’t hung out this much since we were tweens, and it’s like no time has passed. I wish Rachel was here to meet you.”

“Do you think that Rachel and I would have been friends?”

“You’re not that different, she had,” Chloe began, caught herself, and continued, more firmly, “has a great eye for images, and art. Plus, she’s a smartass like you. We would all be hella best friends forever.”

“I know she must be as cool as you are,” Max said, and Chloe felt herself get a little prouder as Max said she was cool, “I have no doubt we’ll meet soon.”

“Railroad tracks always make me feel better,” Chloe said, to fill the sudden uncomfortable silence that stretched between them. “I have no idea why.”

“Kerouac knew,” Max said, not picking up on Chloe’s little white lie, masking over a painful truth, “it’s the romance of travel, and movement, the sound of the train whistle at night.”

“Look at the beat poet here,” Chloe interrupted, and hated herself for doing it, for not letting the serious moment continue, and always trying to make a joke out of everything.

“I’d rather be a good photographer,” Max said, apologetically.

“You are,” Chloe said, sitting up, and trying to be more earnest, with her best friend, “you just have to stop being afraid.”

Max nodded, and there was something distant, and intense in her eyes, as they locked with Chloe’s. Too intense. Chloe looked away, leaning her head on the tracks, as she stared up at the clouds drifting high above, outside of the sphere of influence of the black hole that was Arcadia Bay. Beside her Max stood up, and got her camera, William’s camera, out, perhaps listening to her advice, and trying to be less afraid. Trying to use that camera awesomely, like he would have wanted.

Chloe was aware of three things at once, in the next moment. First, she suddenly heard the sharp squeal, and felt the violent vibration of a rapidly approaching train engine through the tracks. Second, she realized that her boot was stuck in the train switches. And third, just as she called out to her for help, she realized that Max was once again bent over, with her head in her hands.

“Max? Dude? Uhhh, could use a little help here,” Chloe began, her voice slowly rising in fear and pitch, as Max still groaned. “Max? Hey, come on, the train is coming! Fast! Came out of nowhere. Max? Max! Hey, future Max? Shit, shit, shit, shit. Max! Help, I’m stuck!”

And then Max was standing up, and speaking, muttering under her breath in a voice that sounded so, so different than her normal way of speaking.

“Shit, okay, no powers this time around, I can do this.”

And then she was running off, up a little hill towards a switch box. She moved differently, it seemed, than Max’s kind of pathetically slow run, when she normally put her hands up in the air. This was a dead sprint, efficient, and frightening, somehow. But more than that Chloe was terrified, because she was running away, and the train was getting closer, and she was afraid. She was afraid that Max was abandoning her, just like everyone else, just like she deserved. She was horrible for Max to even be around, like Joyce had said, and she got Max into situations like the one with Frank. She deserved this.

And she was afraid of dying. She looked at the train bearing down on her, it’s brakes squealing, and knew it would probably take another mile to stop at least, something that heavy, going that fast. She had looked at those trains before, daring them to hit her, but now was different. She wanted to live, and was afraid of dying. She screamed for help.

And at the last possible moment, Max came running back, with the same cold efficiency in her stride, with a pair of pliers in her hand, and was doing something with the switches. They shifted under Chloe. And as the train neared her, just inches away, it seemed, she desperately pulled back on her boot, and fell to safety.

Chloe panted heavily, as the train roared between her and Max, keeping them apart for a moment. She was alive. Right? Right. She was alive, and she was in Arcadia Bay, not hell, although it was sometimes hard to tell the difference. She had survived, and Max, well, future Max, maybe, had saved her, yet again. Shit, how do you fucking thank someone for saving your life for the third or fourth time? Was there a gift for that? Roman triumph? One night stand? A really nice steak dinner? And where the fuck had that train come from? Came out of nowhere, it seemed, sent like an asteroid from some dickish god. Like the fucking universe itself was trying to kill her, if Max didn’t keep acting like a badass.

“Chloe?” Max’s voice was almost lost in the final whine and roar of the train passing, but Chloe did not wait.

She ran across the train tracks, and before she could stop herself, before she could think, she was wrapping her arms around Max, feeling warm, and safe.

“Shit, are you okay, Max?”

“Yeah,” Max replied, still tangled in the taller girls arms. “Did I pass out again? What happened?”

“You, black out you, future you, whoever or whatever she is, saved my life, again. You’re my goddamn hero, Max.”

“Woah, Chloe, are you okay?” Max asked, as she took a step back, reaching towards the blue-haired girl’s face, before drawing her hand sharply back.

“Yeah, the train missed me, why wouldn’t I be?”

“It looks like it was a pretty close call, and it didn’t miss you entirely. It must have just hit your cheek.”

The human body had an amazing way of going through shit. Running on excitement, on adrenaline, and the amazing friendship of Max Caulfield, Chloe had not realized she was bleeding until she reached up, and felt the long, ragged gash running along her cheekbone, from the corner of her ear almost to her chin. But as she felt it, she felt too the warm blood running down her neck, under her jacket, and her necklace, and felt the heat blooming out from the grazing wound of an entire train just missing her by inches, and the reality of the situation set in. She was alive, and she was glad to be alive, glad that she had won the game of chicken with the train this time, but holy shit, it had been the second near death experience in two days.

“Shit,” she muttered, staggering backwards a bit.

“Chloe,” Max said, and Chloe heard panic, and fear in her voice, and found herself wondering if she felt the same sense of protectiveness that she herself had begun to feel recently, “that’s bleeding a lot.”

“Yeah, face cuts do that, it looks worse than it is.”

“Does it hurt?”

“Nah,” Chloe tried to laugh, and smile, and ended up wincing instead, “well, a little, but still, I’ve gotten worse in some fights.”

“Why were you fighting?”

“You have to ask about which time. Ouch.”

“Come on,” Max said, taking her hand firmly, and starting to walk back towards the truck, “I am taking you to Arcadia Bay Med Center to get that stitched up.”

“Don’t you have classes or something? You’ll be late, I couldn’t do that to you,” Chloe said, feeling guilt stab through her. “You’ve saved my life enough that I can’t ever fucking deal with being a burden on you, like Joyce fucking thinks.”

“First,” Max said, not turning around, as she continued her march back towards the junkyard, taking the taller girl with her, “you aren’t a burden, you’re my best friend, Joyce is wrong. Second, I didn’t save your life, future me did, or whatever.”

“So you do believe me now,” Chloe said, grinning, and immediately regretting it.

“I believe you that something weird is happening, and for all I know maybe in the future there really is time travel and this is how it works. But for now, I don’t think I saved your life, since it was during a blackout.”

“Hey, hey, wait,” Chloe said, pulling her back around to face her, “no, even if blackout future you doesn’t count, or whatever, and I think it does, you stood up to David, and Frank, and you’re my best friend too, and I think that hella counts for saving my life at least once, cumulatively.”

Max opened her mouth to speak, closed it again, and chewed on her lip, just for a moment, before answering.

“Fine, but only ‘cause you’re my friend, and only if you agree to let me take you to get that stitched up. I’d feel way too guilty wrecking your pretty face if I didn’t.”

“Whatever you say, Caulfield. You sure you missing class won’t change anything?”

“It’s just Blackwell,” Max said, as she turned, and continued to walk, still holding tight to Chloe’s hand, “what could I miss?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nothing could be different, right?
> 
> Real excited for the next chapter, hope you all are too, and hope you're enjoying!


	7. Ego Death

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A clinic, and a rooftop.
> 
> Huge CW for themes shown in the game, discussion of suicidality, death, and mental illness.

Ego Death

“Only to the extent we expose ourselves over and over again to annihilation can that which is indestructible in us be found.”

-Pema Chodron

Chloe sat on the uncomfortable chair in the waiting room and tried to figure out how she was going to pay for the gash running across her face, bleeding into Max’s hoodie. Was she even on David’s health insurance? Did he get any from Blackwell? Joyce definitely didn’t have insurance, and it’s not like any of them had much in savings. The last thing she needed would be even more debt, she had enough of that to Frank, and she doubted that Max, on her scholarship, unable to buy cameras, or her parents, sending their daughter to her dream school from all the way up in Seattle would be able to afford it.

“Seriously,” she hissed again, to Max, who was sitting in the chair by her side, “we don’t need this. It’s not like I got shot or some shit. Let’s just bail.”

“That’s gonna leave a really nasty scar without stitches,” Max insisted, sending a text to someone.

“Chicks love scars, it’ll be fine.”

“And it might get infected too.”

“Chloe Price?” The nurse called, suddenly.

“Shit, come on, we need to go,” Chloe said, standing up and looking towards the door.

“Oh lord, Chloe, this is a charity clinic,” Max said, grabbing the taller girl by the hand. “It’s not like a town the size of Arcadia Bay could even have a big hospital. Not without some serious gentrification. Come on, it’s pay what you can and I’ll handle it, I promise. I already feel like it’s my responsibility.”

“Your responsibility that I didn’t get my head flattened by the train, maybe, but not this cut.”

“Yeah, but we were walking along there, resting there, ‘cause you were worried about me, weren’t you?”

“No,” Chloe said weakly, looking down at her boots.

“Really?”

“Fine, yes, I thought you were scared by Frank and shit.”

“Good, so let me do this for you. You have such an issue having other people be nice to you,” Max insisted.

“Chloe Price?” The nurse said again, impatiently.

“Yes, coming,” Max said brightly, as she pulled Chloe forward with her.

“You're Chloe Price?” The nurse asked her, looking at the chart she was holding in her hands without interest.

“She is, not me,” Max replied. “Chloe, take my hoodie off your face and show her.”

“Yeah, we can stitch that up,” she said, dispassionately, as Chloe sheepishly showed her the wound, “you her sister?”

“Fuck no,” Chloe spat, feeling angry at the assumption, for some reason.

“Friend,” Max said smoothly.

“Fine, I just need it for files. Follow me.”

They followed her through the sterile hallways, and into an empty room. The nurse told them to sit, and that the doctor would be with them soon, and then she left, closing the door behind her. Posters on the wall talked about condoms, and testing, and safe sex. Chloe still held Max’s hoodie to her face, where the blood was starting to crust, and dry.

“I’m ruining your clothes, Max,” she said, after a moment.

“It’s fine, I have more hoodies. Are you okay, though? You’re way quiet.”

“Yeah, just thinking about this place, is all. Don’t like hospitals. Why the fuck would anyone want to come here?”

“Some people have issues, Chloe, and need help.”

“Fuck,” Chloe said, perhaps a little angrier, and more defensive than she meant to, “I know that, I have issues, just don’t fucking like hospitals. Even shitty clinics like this. I’ve been here before, you know.”

“No, honestly. When?”

At that moment, fortunately, the doctor walked in, cutting off the uncomfortable conversation. He looked at Max skeptically, but when Chloe insisted that she stay, he shrugged, and got to work, quietly, and without fuss. Three stitches in her cheek, with each one Chloe forcing herself not to flinch, and to act cool, and then he was putting a bandage over it, telling her to keep it on for three days, and to go to the desk about billing. And just like that it was over, and they were walking out together.

“So, what insurance do you have?” The receptionist said, from the other side of the desk, not bothering to look up to them, as Max grabbed Chloe’s hand, and pulled it away from poking at the bandage.

“We don’t have insurance,” Chloe said, looking away, embarrassed.

“Are you paying?” The receptionist said, looking up and raising an eyebrow, as if judging Chloe’s appearance. 

“No, I am,” Max jumped in smoothly, making Chloe flush with embarrassment.

“Right, so what’s your insurance?”

“Umm, do you do charity?”

“Yes, we do, but, well, aren’t you one of those Blackwell kids? Don’t your parents have some insurance? Or maybe the Prescotts?”

“Yeah, but, well,” Max began, before clearing her throat, and continuing firmly, “I’m there on a scholarship. And I think I qualify for charity.”

“Are you eighteen?”

“Yes.”

“Then what’s your income?”

“Uh, nothing,” Max, said, with a cough.

The receptionist rolled her eyes, as if exasperated by the whole ordeal, as if giving charity care to Blackwell students was utterly beneath her. Max paid the small bill in cash, and Chloe flushed again when she saw it, feeling even more in debt to her now, even more so, somehow, than she felt for Max saving her life twice. They left together, walking side by side, as clouds rumbled low over the town, threatening rain in the very near future.

“Thanks,” Chloe said, as her truck coughed to life beneath them. “It’s weird, right, that you’ve saved my life like, multiple times now, and I still feel weirder about being in your financial debt.”

“You aren’t in debt to me, Chloe,” Max insisted, as they pulled out of the parking lot. “I felt like protecting you, that’s all. That’s what friends do. Especially since you don’t really protect yourself. You need to take more care, Chloe.”

“Yeah, yeah, you and Joyce both tell me that.”

“No, seriously, you deserve to take care of yourself.”

“Still feels weird,” Chloe said, trying to change the topic. “Especially, well, with your parents.”

“Your parents and mine are both in the same class, Chloe.”

“Oh, look at Marx over here,” Chloe laughed, as they headed towards Blackwell, and immediately regretted yet again joking to make light of a tough situation. “Sorry, sorry, I do that joking shit too much. It was ‘cause of the shrink.”

“What?” Max asked, not following the train of thought.

“Why I don’t like hospitals, or clinics, or whatever shit. I had to go there, to get a prescription, to try to help deal with the shit going on in my head. I didn’t like the shrink that much.”

“Oh. I, uh, saw your meds.”

“Fuck, Max,” Chloe said, now feeling anger for real, “that’s hella nosy.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know.”

“Shit, sorry, anger. Gotta breath, and count down.”

“No, it’s okay,” Max said, turning and looking out the window at the rain. “I had that coming.”

“Hey, it’s just how you are, and I like you the way you are,” Chloe said, lamely.

“Did they help?”

“Did what help?”

“The meds.”

“I don’t know,” Chloe said, with a shrug she knew Max didn’t see. “Maybe. Internet says it takes a while, and I might not even be on the right one for me. Plus, well, I’m on a lot of other things too, and the rest of my life is fucked up. Best medicine would be seeing this place get nuked.”

“Chloe,” Max said, softly.

“Yeah, yeah, I know, not you,” Chloe continued, trying to play it off as yet another joke. “Wait, what the fuck? Where is everyone going?”

They were pulling into Blackwell’s parking lot, and a bunch of the hipster shit was running past them, towards the dorms. Chloe barely bothered to park legally, before she killed the engine, and was stepping out, into the rain. Max stepped out with her, and together they followed the crowd.

“Kate,” Max said, under her breath.

“Holy shit.”

She was on the edge of the dorm roof, and Chloe had no illusions about what she was doing. She had never had the urge to do that, not exactly, at least. Chloe preferred other ways of endangering herself, but she had been there, emotionally speaking. She understood that pain, in that moment, and felt a moment of empathy like she had never felt with another human. A moment of guilt, too, for trying to get Max to ignore her, for being jealous of their friendship. She was glad to be alive, with Max as her friend, in Arcadia Bay, and she wanted Kate Marsh to live too.

“Max,” Chloe began a sentence she did not know how to finish, but as she turned to Max, Max was already sprinting away.

For a moment Chloe thought that it was Max from the future, that maybe the person she had come to this time to save was Kate. But as she disappeared into the dorms, Chloe recognized that run, inefficient, and impractical. That was just Max, her Max, trying desperately to save her friend. For a heartbeat Chloe moved to follow her, but then she saw David there, and despite herself, froze in fear, and the opportunity passed her by. She could only stand, and watch, as Kate moved closer to the edge, and pray, to the universe, to whatever old, strange, mysterious gods of Arcadia Bay might have been real, and might have been listening to her in that moment, that Kate would not jump.

And then she saw Max up there, as she stared through the rain, just like all the other little shits clustered around her. They were talking, clearly, although she could not hear. She could only hope that whatever Max was saying, whatever it was that was passing between them, it reached Kate. The universe was fucking cruel, and unfair, and shitty. But still a fucking good place, on rare occaisons, from time to time. Rachel had shown Chloe that, maybe Max could show Kate.

And almost before it had begun, it seemed, it was over. Kate was backing away from the ledge, back towards Max, and they were both coming down, off the roof. Chloe pushed, and tried to force her way through the crowds, to rescue them, and take them both away with her, away from Blackhell, and the step-fail, and Wells, and Arcadia Bay, to someplace they could all be safe together. But there were too many people in the way, EMTs, security people, cops, and before she could reach them they were both being swept away, Kate to the clinic, Max with Wells, and all Chloe could do was wish she could be with either of them. Both of them.

She stayed until the crowd dispersed, the cops leaving to all go be bastards, the medical staff to save lives, or whatever, and the hipster students back to their rich fucking dorms, to go feel sad. The rain cleared up, and the sun set towards the horizon, all big and fiery, and no one came for her. No one kicked her off campus, or did anything.

“Fuck this shit,” she said suddenly, probably an hour later.

She couldn’t take it anymore. Her emotions were raging, like they had not since Max came storming back into her life. It was selfish, she knew, and just another way to be shitty, but it was hard not to make things about her. If she hadn’t gotten her face fuck up then Max would have been back to Blackwell on time, and sure, she would have been in class, but she probably would have gotten out earlier, and been able to talk to Kate before she was on the roof. This was her fault, and worse, seeing it had brought up a lot of emotions she hated feeling, emotions she had felt after William, after Rachel, and after Nathan. She needed to do something, and she did not know what. Anger was safe, as was feeling numb, but something felt different this time. She should take care of herself, right? That was what Max wanted? Well how the fuck was she supposed to do that, Max?

So she drove, wasting precious gas. She drove south, parallel to the coast, freaking out the whole time, until she finally pulled over on the beach. And then she did the only thing she knew how to do in that moment, curl up in the bed of her pickup, and cry until the tears finally stopped. It took a long, long time. By the time she was gasping for air again, in between hiccups, and getting out of the fetal position, the sun was almost setting beneath the Pacific, and Chloe still felt emotionally spent, tired, and angry. She knew she had to drive back home, but she needed to settle herself first.

She hated herself so much, in that moment, her mind fogged by stress, and emotions brought about by seeing Kate’s attempt, and also the pain in her cheek, where the tears had trailed into her bandage. She pulled out a cigarette, to do those stupid breathing exercises, right? And then she texted Max, trying to calm herself down by talking to a goddamn hero, and her best friend in the world, someone who wanted to keep people safe, herself included, even if she did not think she deserved it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uhhh, heavy chapter that was tough to write. Tomorrow we'll have pools and stuff :)
> 
> Love you all and take care of yourselves.


	8. Blood, Chlorine, Hair-Dye and, Hormones

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Two girls swim in a pool at night.
> 
> CW for homophobic language.

Blood, Chlorine, Hair-Dye, and Hormones

“You only assume that they're thinking what you're thinking when they look. But they're not.”

-Graham, from “But I’m a Cheerleader.”

Chloe Price's sleep was irregular at the best of times, scattered between benders, pills, weed, late night porn binges, bad pizza, nightmares about William, Nathan, and more. What else was she supposed to do, take care of herself? Like she deserved that, she had thought before. But tonight was not the best of times, and it would be flat out impossible, she knew. But still, something in her made her want to try, right? She was supposed to take care of herself.

Images of the day flashed through her mind, as she lay in her bed, and turned around again, and again. Joyce’s little biting words, Frank, the train. And then, when they had gotten back to Blackwell, late, because of the bleeding gash on her cheek, that girl, Kate Marsh, nearly killing herself. It was torturous, she knew, for someone going through that. She’d been there again, and again, but, seeing Max rush up there, get there just in time, and talk the girl down, it made Chloe glad to be alive. Max was damn good, even if those asshats who swept her away before she could intervene were going to suspend her as a scapegoat. She should have been quicker, and gotten Max and Kate both to safety.

She drifted off, shallowly, at first, her breathing slowed by the chemicals in her, and she started to dream. She dreamt she saw the moon, in the sky, and a second one too, joining it, as if from another world, very close to her own, where things were just slightly different, where the universe had taken a different course on one of its endless permutations, spiraling off towards infinity. The moon ate the sun, in her dream.

That made her wake up in a cold sweat, and before she could think of anything else to do, she was texting Max, while trying not to look at the old picture of her and Rachel displayed on her phone.

"there wasnt like a fucking eclipse this evening was there?"

Max texted back mere seconds later.

"no, Warren would def tell me about something like that"

Chloe closed the message, and looked back at the old picture, Rachel’s eyes taunting her from the screen. Screw that, she thought, changing it to a new picture of her and Max together. She closed her eyes, and then opened them again. Warren, that kid from the parking lot? Fucking white knight dude, looking for his manic pixie dream girl, him? That Warren?

Huh.

She closed her eyes again and rolled over. She tried to sleep, right, because that was what the internet said helped when your brain was all fucked up? That’s what Max wanted her to do, to take care of herself. She did not sleep. Max. Max. Max and Warren. Warren and Max. She couldn’t get it out of her mind. At the best of times Chloe was hardly one for introspection, and now was not the best of times, so she did not ask herself why she did what she did when she rolled over, grabbed something she had stolen days before out of a heap of clothes on the floor, and headed towards her truck.

"I have something to show you meet me in front of campus, get dat ass in gear NOW!"

The text shot off to Max just seconds before Chloe’s truck coughed, loud and noisy in the quiet night, and she sped away, towards Blackwell. The moon was near full, and bright, overhead, shining down on Arcadia Bay. It was still a shitstain, Chloe knew, but it felt different tonight. She felt different. Max was at once a hero and also suspended on bullshit reasons, and also maybe time travel was real. The town felt different, brighter, and better, tonight, and Chloe didn’t know why.

She pulled into Blackwell’s parking lot, making sure no one saw her, and killed the engine, right after checking the time. 11:47 PM, and no sign of Max. She shot out another text, and then jumped out of her car, and lit a cigarette, staring up at the big, imposing building in front of her as she waited.

She had once been a student there. It was fucking weird to think about, even for her. It felt like another world, another life. She was a different person, now. Not necessarily better, given what a monumental fuck up she was, but different, at least. At the very least she wasn’t a student of this hipster douchebag elite corrupt high school hellhole, anymore. The cigarette burned lower, singeing her fingers, and she stamped it out under her boot. Still no Max, but a stupid, impulsive thought crawled into her head, and she walked towards the building, hiding behind a tree, to scare Max, like some sort of punk ghost.

She didn’t show up. Chloe waited, hidden in shadow, as she heard speaking.

“Thank you again, so much, for helping me put together a portfolio.”

“Hopefully the rest of the class will follow your lead. I’m sorry I was distracted. As you know, it has not been a good day for Blackwell.”

The blonde bitch was Victoria, Chloe knew. Blackwell elite, which was, like, another layer of elite on top of elite. Vortex club bitch, strung out junkie, probably getting her drugs from Frank, in between torturing poor fucking Kate Marsh. She was talking to some douche with annoying glasses and an even more annoying beard. That would be Mark Jefferson, the star teacher. Chloe watched, as the pair talked, at the entrance to the school. She kept rolling her eyes, ignoring them, for the most part, until Victoria started trash talking Max.

“I’ll give you a one-word sneak preview of Max’s photo: selfie,” Victoria said, and Chloe felt the overwhelming urge to break cover, and beat the shit out of her, or maybe into her, and convince her with fists that Max was a brilliant photographer. “Listen, you’ve seen my entry. You know it’s better than that. Wouldn’t that be so cool to hang out together in San Francisco, Mark?”

“Stick to Mr. Jefferson, Victoria, please? And I haven’t picked a winner yet.”

“You already love my work,” she said, grabbing his arm, “so it’s not like you’re playing favorites. Just imagine if you picked my photo, though, we would have to spend a lot of time together. That could be fun, wouldn’t it?”

“I’m going to think that you didn’t say any of that.”

“You might as well choose me, otherwise I might have to tell people you chose my photo for favors, or something.”

“As a favor to your future I’ll also ignore that undisguised threat,” Jefferson said, and Chloe couldn’t stop herself from thinking of all the kids she knew in juvie on petty drug charges that never got that kind of forgiveness. “This conversation is officially over, Ms. Chase, I suggest you go back to your dorm now.”

They both walked off, as Chloe stayed hidden. Holy shit, she thought, to herself. She knew Victoria was a manipulative skank, but still, trying to sleep with a teacher is a whole new level of fucked up, and especially if you were going to shit talk Max while doing it. Good for that Jefferson, dude, at least, for shutting her down.

“Boo.”

“What the fuck?” Chloe hissed, turning around, and starting backwards.

“Oh, shit, sorry,” Max said, lightly touching Chloe’s shoulder, as she stood up.

“Yeah, yeah, sorry, just jumpy,” Chloe said, brushing her hand off her shoulder. “Why were you late?”

“It turns out Principle Wells has a drinking habit, and posted up outside the dorms. I had to avoid him, and take the long way around, through the woods.”

“Shit, glad you’re hella determined, Max,” Chloe said, with a smile. “And a goddamn hero. You balls to the walls did save your friend today.”

“Kate saved herself,” Max said, awkwardly.

“Don’t be so modest, rockstar. You got to the roof on time, despite taking all that time to make sure my face got patched up good, and you obviously said the right things up there. Kate is alive because of you.”

“Maybe, but we need to find out who almost killed Kate,” Max insisted, with an intensity behind her eyes, “and keep it from happening to anyone else. There’s too much coincidence between the people around Kate and Rachel.”

“Like step-prick and Nathan Prescott?” Chloe said, her mind on the bathroom, and his hands on her, once again.

“Not just them,” Max said, crossing her scrawny arms to keep warm, since she wasn’t wearing a hoodie.

“Yep, I just want to beat the shit out of those particular bros.”

“Even though I don’t know her,” Max said, with that same distant look in her eyes, “it feels like Rachel is guiding us to the truth.”

“Yeah that or, you know, you from the future.”

“Fuck her,” Max said, suddenly and sharply.

“Woah, where’s the anger coming from?”

“I didn’t black out today, and I had to save Kate all on my own. Whoever or whatever future me is poking back into the past to save it wasn’t Kate, and I can’t fucking believe that. Kate is not expendable, and I don’t know why I wouldn’t try to save her in the future.”

“Maybe she couldn’t?” Chloe said cautiously. “Or, well, you couldn’t. Fuck, time travel is confusing. It’s not like we know really anything about her, or how time travel works. And you did save her, you here in the present, being a badass again. So, you know, maybe keep that up while we try to find Rachel?”

“Of course, sorry,” Max said, shaking her head. “Sorry, it’s been a long day.”

“Yeah, it does, and it’s okay Max. It just scares me to think where she could be. Do you think she’s…?”

The sentence trailed off, and hung there between them like a threat, or a worry, or an anxiety, a train of thought that Chloe could not bring herself to complete.

“Dead?” Max said, finishing it for her. “I’m sorry, I hate even saying that, Chloe.”

“Not as much as I hate thinking it,” Chloe said, dread and anger stabbing through her, as she tried to block her thoughts. “Max, we have to find Rachel soon. We have to.”

“I promise you we will,” Max said, and Chloe almost believed her. “What was Victoria doing out here, by the way? I passed by her on my way over.”

“She was trying to sleep with that Jeffershit,” Chloe said, off handedly, “because she knows she can’t beat you in that photo contest thing. Got shut down pretty decisively. I saw it all while you were held up, but they didn’t see me.”

“Damn, just when I imagine Victoria can’t get any more evil,” Max muttered.

“Shit is about to go down at Blackwell. Speaking of, drumroll please, I present my surprise, the spare keys to Blackwell, thank you, step-prick.”

“You’re such a boss, Chloe,” Max said, and Chloe loved it. “I just don’t want you to get into any more trouble.”

“Look at all the trouble dropping in Arcadia Bay. At this point, who gives a fuck anymore. We’re in it to win it, Max. Lead the way.”

“I’m so glad you’re my partner in crime,” Max said, her hand resting on Chloe’s shoulder, as they walked up to the door.

“Partner. Like that word. It’s like, are we cowboys? Married? Robbing a bank, who knows?”

“You’re unbearable.”

“I feel like I could take on a bear, at least, if it was one of the ones you probably have up in Seattle.”

“I don’t know,” Max said, picking up on the joke easily, “they’ve got a lot of leather to protect them.”

There were a couple things in Chloe’s life that continued to embarrass her years after they happened. That time she had gotten sick over the side of the boat when she’d convinced that fisherman to take her out to be a pirate. The time she’d tried to do a skateboard trick and eaten concrete for breakfast. If she had to guess, trying and failing to pick the lock to Wells’ office in front of Max would be one of the things she continued to be embarrassed by years and years from now.

“I guess my thief skill isn’t all that good,” she said, finally standing up, and cracking her back. “Or Frank wasn’t a great teacher. Fucking shit, you know he’s hiding stuff in there, if even David doesn’t have the key to it. Should we break the window?”

“I’m pretty sure that would qualify us for both breaking and entering,” Max said, resting her hand on her shoulder.

“Shit. What about that pipe-bomb idea, and your nerdy boyfriend?”

“He’s not my boyfriend, and besides, same thing, and it’s not like we’d be able to undo the damage that did. Can't just rewind time.”

“Right, right. Would be convenient if we could. Shit, though. We are going to have to come back here later. Why the fuck didn’t step-fuck have the key to here? At least he has the keys to the other place I wanted to check out tonight.”

“That impish look scares me,” Max said, looking up at her.

“Care for a midnight swim?” Chloe said, holding up the keys. “The Blackwell pool is ours.”

“Swimming? You want to take that risk now?”

“It’s been a cray week, we got frustrated by a door, so at least allow me to have a little carefree fun. Splish splash?”

“You’re right,” Max said, suddenly smiling along with her, “we hella deserve it. Splish splash.”

Chloe was not good at introspection, she knew. Had no idea when or why she thought of the pool, this night, after she swiped David’s keys. And she didn’t care. The water would be warm, and it was all theirs. She could figure out her motivations later. Would, probably, but right now, in standard Chloe fashion, she was focused on the moment.

“Boys or girls?”

“Girls, of course.”

Chloe was still thinking of that answer, and what it meant. She watched Max undress, and dive into the water next to her. She splashed her, and joked about otters. Did Max know what that meant? Was she picking up on the hints that Chloe was dropping? The answer came to her very quickly.

“Is your cheek okay, in the chlorine?” Max asked, suddenly, in a lull in the conversation between them.

“Yeah, I think that the bandage is like, water proof.”

“Probably water resistant, but not designed for diving in pools.”

“Yeah, but when have I ever followed the rules,” Chloe grinned.

“What about your hair,” Max insisted, “is your dyke going to be okay with all the chemicals in here?”

“Dyke?” Chloe asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Shit, uh, misspoke. Dye, hair dye.”

“Yeah, fuck, it’ll be fine,” Chloe snorted. “It’ll turn green, and weird, probably, with enough time, but do I look like someone who cares about that?”

“No.”

“Hell no, been called a dyke way too many times for that.”

“Oh, uh, sorry, about that,” Max said, looking away.

“Nah, it’s okay,” Chloe hastened to reassure her, and as she did she felt the words fall out of her mouth. “They’re not, like, completely wrong about me, you know, and I kinda like using it for myself. You okay with that?”

“Yeah, of course, why wouldn’t I be?”

“Some girls can get weird about it, sometimes, that, you know, I’m into other girls. That’s all.”

“No worries here, you’re cool.”

Chloe didn’t reply, not right away, as she floated there, on her back, in the water. She was not much one for introspection, but she was not an idiot. She realized, now, why this idea had come to her so suddenly. Max was cute, in a dorky sort of way, and Chloe was still human. It was shit, she knew, to fall for her best friend, especially when there was probably Warren, and she was probably straight as fuck. It would just fuck things up, and worse, it made her feel guilty, somehow, for Rachel, like she was betraying her, and whatever the fuck they had had between them.

“I wish Rachel was here,” she said, finally. “She would totally love being in here at night. Wish you guys had met each other.”

“We will,” Max reassured her. “With all this stuff going on, I’m starting to think everything is related. And I want to find out for Kate’s sake. She almost died today.”

“You saved her,” Chloe said, as they both turned, and swam towards the edge of the pool, “the same way you saved me. Twice. You’re pretty badass.”

“Thanks girlfriend,” Max said, in that joking way only straight girls could do. “But it’s mostly just luck. And beside, with you, at least, I was blacked out. Maybe that was a different me, a future me, one who still wasn’t there to save Kate.”

“So start moving forward in time,” Chloe said, her arms close to touching Max’s. “And, you know, maybe I’ll be there in the future too. Maybe I won’t be dead.”

“Absolutely,” Max said, looking at her, with her stupidly cute freckles. “You make feel like I’m not total shit.”

“Dude, stop,” Chloe insisted, looking away, for her own sake, “you make me feel like Arcadia Bay is less of a festering hellhole, and you’re like, the smartest, most talented person I’ve ever known.”

“More than Rachel Amber?”

Alright, Max, yes, fine, I had feelings for her, Chloe wanted to shout. Have feelings for her. I don’t know. It’s complicated. I don’t know what I was to her, if she felt the same way, and emotions are hard. But she recognized anger, and remembered Joyce’s words, and bit her tongue, as she responded.

“Dude, I’m not her groupie, okay. And I’m sure you have Blackwell bros all over you, like Warren.”

“Warren is nice,” she said.

“Nice?” Chloe said, feeling a stab of hope. “Ouch, that means friendzoned.”

“No, he’s really cool,” Max said, the hope dying in Chloe. “It was so sweet when he stood up to Nathan.”

“No worries,” Chloe said, trying to get the thoughts of them together out of her head, “just, when you’re off having babies don’t tell me about it.”

“Hey, as long as you’re there with me," Max said softly.

"Best friends forever?" Chloe asked.

"Best friends forever."

“Don’t look so sad, I’m never leaving you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ayyyyy one of my favorite chapters to write so far! Fun fact, I actually did mean to write "hair dye" the first time, and made a typo. And it worked so well that I kept it.
> 
> Enjoy, as always!


	9. This is How to Break Your Heart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A quiet morning, a brief flashback, two choices, and the repercussions of both.
> 
> CW for discussion of homophobic violence and language.

This is How to Break Your Heart

“I don’t think I ever really kissed any boys. I think my tongue had just been punching their tongues. But as soon as you loved me all my callous went away. My hands so soft it hurt to pray.”

-Andrea Gibson, “First Love.”

She woke up warm and comfortable, staring at the graffiti on the ceiling, and thinking about last night.

“When did you know?” Max had asked, in the sudden lull as they left Blackhell in the dust behind her truck, driving headlong through the darkness together.

“Know what?”

“That you’re gay, girl.”

“I don’t know. Never really got the chance to sit down and put a label on myself, you know, especially with the heterosexual crusader living under my roof,” she had said, lying out her ass about when she had first realized, first questioned, her eyes firmly planted on the road. “I messed around with boys too, for a bit. Mostly I just get slurs and shit thrown at me, you know. Don’t really think about it.”

“Oh, okay, so, we’re any of the boys serious or...?”

“Max,” she had said, faking a yawn, “I am hella fucking tired. Can we talk more about this tomorrow?”

“Right, sure.”

“Good, and here’s my house.”

“How are we gonna sleep?” Max had asked.

“You got the bed, I’ll sleep on the floor.”

“Nonsense, your bed is big enough for the both of us.”

“Really, uh, you sure about that?” She had said, thinking of waking up with Nathan leering at her.

“Of course, you’re my best friend, and I feel safe with you, okay?”

“Yeah, uhh, me too. I feel safe with you.”

And now it was morning, and Max was in her underwear, in her room, getting dressed.

“Ew, still reeks like a chlorine factory,” she said, pulling back from her clothes.

“See if you can find a suitable outfit in my fashion hole,” Chloe said, getting up, as she saw Max walk over to her closet. “Hey, there you go! Rachel left a bunch of her clothes with me, she’s your size.”

“But not quite my style.”

“Max, you don’t have a style yet. At least give it a try, unless you want to wear your chlorine t-shirt and generic jeans.”

“You suck!” She said, playfully, with her delightful little giggle. “But it would be cool to try on Rachel’s clothes, just to see if they fit.”

“Stop second guessing yourself!” She said, pushing the shorter girl slightly. “Put this on, and let your inner punk rock girl come out, you can afford to take chances, whatever you want to try.”

There was a moment between them. Chloe had not realized how close she was until she stood there, looking at her freckles. She was fucking gorgeous, looking back up at her, with the light pouring through the flag bathing her face in its glow. Chloe knew what feelings felt like, she felt them all the time, and so strongly. But this was worse, and the desire stronger and sharper than ever, running between them like a live wire.

She remembered what Max had said, the other day, when she was talking about turning back time, and Chloe could not get it out of her head. What would that mean, if someone could turn back time? What would you do with that power, if you didn’t have to face any consequences for your actions? Fucking ring of Gyges. Who would you fuck? Who would you make out with? Who would you kiss? In that moment, stretching between them, she knew that if she could rewind time, take back her mistakes, she would ask Max to kiss her.

“Hey, good advice there,” Max said, turning away, apparently completely unaware of the moment that passed between them. “Gimme a sec, I’ll get these clothes on.”

Chloe turned, and lay back down on her head. If she had a dick, if she could think like a man, really like one, she’d have a massive hard on right now. Well, a cis man, she corrected herself, in her mind, like the internet said. She still didn’t know a lot but she didn’t want to be an asshole. Well, not an asshole anymore. Well an asshole to some people, but never other queers.

“Looking sick, Max,” she said, once Max safely had a few more clothes on. “A couple tats, some piercings and we’ll make a thrasher out of you yet.”

“Ready for the mosh pit, shaka brah,” Max said, and Chloe suddenly had second doubts about her one-sided crush.

“Maybe not. Go on down and say hi to Joyce. Free breakfast! I have to wake and bake first.”

“I promise not to tell,” she laughed, and just like that the crush was just as strong as it had ever been.

“Better not, otherwise I might have to best unfriend you for it.”

Of course Max didn’t leave. Not right then, not with how nosy she was. As annoying as it was it was also strangely nice having her stay around, and try to talk, through the smoke. It was evidence that she actually was a friend, and that Chloe was not a total piece of shit, to be abandoned at a moment’s notice.

“I love this morning light, it’s so peaceful,” she said.

“Wouldn’t it be wicked if we could just hang out here forever,” Chloe said, suddenly sad, “like when we were kids?”

“Yes, but sadly we’re not kids anymore.”

“At least you can date, now, right?” She said, perhaps a little more bitter than she intended, jealous of ease of straight dating. “My dad was terrified of the day I would discover boys.”

She left off the regret at the end of her voice, the knowledge that William would never know who she loved, and that boys were the least of his issues.

“As Blackwell proves boys are trouble.”

“And way fucking gross, as you’ll discover that soon enough.”

“Oh okay, woman of the world,” Max smirked, “please tell me what it’s like to get that first magic kiss.”

“Sorry, sorry,” Chloe laughed, trying to play it off as a joke, “I just don’t think that anyone is good enough for you, besides me.”

Chloe kicked herself, as Max walked out of the room. It was too much, right? Stereotypical, even. Straight girls got all pissy when you even remotely flirted with them, right? Probably already down there complaining to Joyce. She’d alienate her, and drive her away, just like Rachel, and everyone else.

The thoughts kept racing through her mind until she numbed them enough that she nerve herself up to face the day. Get dressed, pick out something cool, something to impress Max, and show off the bra, and go from there. She walked down the stairs, and saw Joyce and Max sitting together at the table, talking together, and suddenly she felt a spike of anger lance through her. She had been too chicken shit to say the thing she wanted to, to Max, upstairs, and now she was about to lash out, and say somethin stupid, something she would regret later, she knew.

“Did you guys have a bonding session about how fucked up I am?”

“It’s not always about you,” Max said, and there was a tension under her voice.

“Jesus, Chloe, what happened to your face?” Joyce shouted, as she saw the bandage.

“Nothing, mother,” Chloe replied before, on a whim, whispering to Max. “I’ll keep the warden busy while you go peek in the garage.”

“Now stop whispering, we need to talk about that bandage there.”

“Jesus, mom,” Chloe shouted, suddenly louder, and overwhelming, “stop being so nosy. I told you it’s nothing, you don’t have to be all up in my shit.”

“Excuse me,” Max said, standing up, and sneaking towards the garage door, to get into David’s surveillance stuff, presumably, “I need to use the bathroom.”

“Oh sure, run off and pee, when you should back me up!” She shouted, hoping Max would not be mad at her later.

“No one can joke around you, Chloe, you’re always flying off the handle like that,” Joyce insisted, as Max disappeared into the garage behind her.

“Maybe I’m always flying off the handle because it’s the only way anyone around here ever listens to me.”

“I do listen to you, Chloe,” Joyce insisted, more quietly.

“You didn’t listen to me when I told you to leave step-flaccid.”

“He’s a good man, Chloe.”

“Really?” Chloe hissed, leaning in towards her. “Wannabe fash shit? Do you know what he does up at Blackwell, harassing people, or always up my ass? Do you want me to tell you all the shit he’s said about me and Rachel? Or me and Max?”

“I know he’s...traditional, but you just need to give him a chance.”

“Is traditional some sort of old person code for authoritarian? Or paranoid? Maybe homophobic?”

“Damnit, Chloe, he is not homophobic,” Joyce said, rubbing her eyes.

“Oh, sure, he’ll think it’s fine, just, you know, he doesn’t understand why they have to be so loud about it, just keep it to yourselves,” Chloe said, anger spiking through her, and the words spilling out, before she could stop them. “But guess what, mom, your daughter’s a lesbian, and I know a fucking bigot when I see one.”

“I know you’re you, Chloe…”

“Yeah, you knew I’m gay. You’ve known for a while. And yet you still married him,” Chloe spat.

“Is this really how you want to come out to me?”

“Apparently it is,” Chloe said, leaning back in her chair.

“I need to wash the dishes,” Joyce said, standing up, and walking towards the kitchen, as if the conversation was too much for her.

“You can’t always run away from your problem, mom,” Chloe muttered, staying sitting down, her leg up on the chair, as she sulked.

Not a dream way of coming out, of course. All the fucking stories and shit online said it would be more cathartic. Joyce should’ve cried, or kicked her out, or some shit, but instead her biggest flaw was standing by a fucking fascist asshole. How the fuck could she really be choosing him over her own daughter, Chloe wanted to ask Joyce, as Max walked back into the room. What would it take for her to actually kick him out? Would she need to personally see him beating her up while calling her a dyke? Hopefully Max had some dirt on him, at least. But just as she reached out, and put her hand on Chloe’s shoulder, the worst fucking voice in the world sounded from their hallway.

“Nice breakfast,” the step-ass barked.

“David, you’re back already?” Joyce said, hesitation in her voice, as she too stepped into the dining room.

“I have to take a nap after writing up vandalism reports last night.”

“What happened?”

“Some little shit-ass punks broke into the swimming pool. This is what happens at these P.C. bullshit, wait, what happened to your face?” He said, gesturing to Chloe.

“Fucking nothing, man,” she said, looking away from him.

He grunted, as he turned to Max. Once again, watching him from the corner of her eye, like a caged animal, Chloe felt the urge to protect her, to keep her safe from him, as he spoke.

“Figures you’d be here. Is that your Rachel Amber Halloween costume?”

“You know more about her than me,” Max retorted, and Chloe loved that spite.

“No, you and Chloe think you know more than anybody, like all teenagers.”

“Leave Max alone, David. Stop threatening students,” Joyce said, finally showing some backbone. 

“He threatens them with surveillance cameras,” Chloe said, all the anger and bile resurfacing, and solidifying, with David as its target, as she stood, “so he can spy on everybody, like he spies on all of us here.”

“Don’t start Chloe, not now,” he growled.

“Yeah, I’m just always starting shit, right?” She said, the spite burning hot in her chest. “You’re a total paranoid.”

“Not now, Chloe.”

“You used to call me a loser for getting kicked out of Blackwell,” she continued, caught up in the moment, and the joy of finally giving him back some of his shit, “so who’s the loser now, David? Who haven’t you accused or harassed? Between your investigations into Rachel and Kate, what have you done besides get in trouble?”

“You’re a bully, David,” Max said, suddenly getting in his face, as Chloe smiled, “I saw you harass Kate Marsh when she was going through hell. You could’ve totally helped her. Everyone at Blackwell is a suspect to you, expect for Nathan Prescott. You even threatened me. You don’t respect anyone.”

“You were smoking pot in Chloe’s room, that’s illegal,” he protested.

“So is spying on people in your family and at your work,” Max pushed.

“What?” Joyce jumped in. “Do you have any proof of this, Max?”

“Yeah, Max,” Chloe said, only able to hope she was able to get into his files, “do you have any proof?”

There was just a moment of hesitation before she answered.

“He’s got cameras all over the place.”

“That’s my job,” he retorted.

“And here in your home?”

“This is my home!” He said again, and the anger that had been burning so bright in Chloe started to fade, as a sinking feeling took its place.

“Listen,” Joyce said, jumping into the conversation, “this is all a lot, and listen, David, you and I are going to have a very long talk about you and Chloe, but for now, Max, I think you need to leave.”

“You’re still taking his side, mom?” Chloe shouted.

“I’m not taking any sides, but Max doesn’t have any proof of this, and Chloe, just, for once, please shut up.”

“Fine!” Chloe exploded, all the anger, and rage, and fear boiling over. “Don’t go fucking looking for me, though, ‘cause if Max is going, then I’m going too.”

She took Max’s hand in hers, before she could protest, and dragged her towards the door, and out, to the waiting truck.

“Shit, shit,” Max muttered, as they both climbed in, and the pickup sputtered to life, “I couldn’t guess his password in time, and I didn’t have any proof, Chloe, I’m so, so fucking sorry.”

“Hey, listen, Max,” Chloe said, her words sharp, and clipped, “because I’m only going to say this once, because then fuck this whole shit-ass day, I never want to talk about it again. But you did nothing wrong. You’re not a computer genius, or a superhero, at least yet, and David is a homophobic ass. Fuck him, you’re my best friend.”

There was another moment there, between them, as Chloe rested her hand on Max’s shoulder, with the truck rattling underneath, where Chloe once again felt like time itself was slowing. She wanted to kiss Max. No, wait, that would be way too much of an asshole move. She wanted to ask Max to kiss her. But she couldn’t do that to her best friend, not when both Joyce and David were pissed at her. The moment passed.

“I do know someone who is, though.”

“Someone who’s what?” Chloe asked, not following.

“Someone who is a computer genius, who might be able to get into David’s laptop.”

“Who?”

“Warren.”

“Oh, fuck, right, your boyfriend,” Chloe said bitterly, as she pulled away from her home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaaaannnd this is why I was worried about people hating me.
> 
> In my defense, I think it's pretty clear that Chloe daring Max to kiss her was a continuation of Chloe realizing, in the Two Whales, that Max could kiss her, and then rewind time. If that conversation never happened, and if Chloe had no reason to believe that Max could just rewind it, and make the event not happen, would she really ask her to kiss her? With Rachel still unaccounted for? And Max's feelings probably still unclear? I think a decent case can be made for no.
> 
> But also, remember, you all know where this is going, just as much as I do.


	10. Strangers Forever

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chloe and Max go to Warren for help, watch a very bad movie, and have a hard conversation.
> 
> CW for discussion of homophobia, death and suicidality.

Strangers Forever

“For this reason shall a man leave his father and mother and unite with his wife, and the two will become one.”

-Matthew 19:5

“I mean,” Warren said, rubbing the back of his head, “it depends a lot on what sort of computer it is.”

“It’s a computer computer,” Chloe sighed, “does it matter?”

They were all sitting on the benches outside of Blackwell, in the cool, crispy morning. Chloe was glad Max had Rachel’s old shirt, given her blood stained hoodie was probably going to be stained forever. But even with Max at her side, Chloe was feeling her nerves fray more and more talking to this nerd.

“Absolutely, what OS is it running? What sort of hardware are we looking at?” He said, so eager that Chloe wanted to punch him.

“It’s owned by an old fucking dick, so I don’t think it’s anything too fancy,” she settled for groaning.

“Wait, Max,” Warren said, suddenly looking nervous, “you mean this isn’t your guys computer? How much trouble are we looking at?”

“You nearly helped her make a pipe bomb!” Chloe hissed.

“Chloe,” Max cautioned, putting a hand on hers, as she sat between her and Warren, “it’s okay, I got this. Listen, you know me, Warren, up to no good. But it’ll be really great to get this all done with before you and I go see that Planet of the Apes marathon.”

“It’s a mad house! A mad house!” Warren said, and something in his voice made Chloe sure she was quoting something she did not understand, at once making her furious and also making her feel stupid. 

“Yeah, okay, I’ll do it. Where’s the computer? Wait, this isn’t the one that’s been missing for days now, right? The one with the cat pics?”

“Nope,” Max said, with that stupid, adorable giggle in her voice, infuriating Chloe, “and we don’t have it.”

“Oh, you don’t?” He asked, clearly confused. “Where is it?”

“We’ll get it to you tomorrow morning, my dude,” Chloe said, standing up and grabbing at Max’s hand.

“Wait, we will?” Max asked, looking up at her.

“Yep, we will,” Chloe insisted. “Bye, Warren.”

“Oh, wait, one more thing, Max!” Warren called after them, as Chloe stalked away, and Max followed after her. “You know that stupid party the Vortex Club was planning for later this week?”

“Yeah, what about it?” Max said, turning around, as Chloe rolled her eyes.

“The school busted it, apparently some people were going to bring alcohol, and it’d need to be the end of the world before the American school system let a bunch of teenagers drink on school property.”

“Seriously? Wells actually stood up to the Vortex Club?”

“Well, you know, officially at least,” Warren shrugged, as he picked up his backpack. “There are rumors they rescheduled it for some later day, off school property, but you know me, I’ve got cooler stuff to do, anime to watch, science to do, girls to save.”

“Bye Warren,” Max said, far too cheerfully, before turning back to Chloe. “So, what now?”

“What do you mean what now?”

“Well, like, I’m suspended, and I can’t go to your home.”

“Right. Thank you for sticking up for me, again, even if Joyce is gonna be a bitch about insisting on bullshit standards of evidence,” Chloe said, as she slumped down on the front steps of the school, and Max sat down next to her.

“Speaking of that, Chloe, what did you mean about getting David’s computer to Warren tomorrow morning?”

“Hey, our sleep schedule is all fucked up already. I figure tonight we’d sneak into my house, sneak it out, and get it to your boyfriend as soon as he’s up tomorrow.”

“He’s not my boyfriend,” Max said softly, resting a hand on Chloe’s shoulder.

“You do have a date with him.”

“Seeing Planet of the Apes at a drive in is not a date.”

“I don’t know,” Chloe said, forcing herself to make a joke as she brushed Max’s hand off her, “just don’t start making out or some slasher will get you, if every movie ever is even remotely true.”

“Hey!” Max said, perhaps a little louder than before. “Don’t joke about that, especially not with Rachel missing, and don’t change the subject either. Won’t stealing David’s laptop get you in huge trouble?”

“Dude, Kate got bullied into a suicide attempt, Rachel’s missing, the dude who assaulted and later tried to kill me is still walking around free, I owe three thousand dollars to a drug dealer, and my best damn friend can’t even visit my home with out my mom and the step-homophobe throwing in fit. And also maybe time travel is involved, which is really melting my brain. I’m already in hella trouble. I’ve hung up on Joyce three times already since we drove out here. You can’t make it any worse. Beside, I need to be a good bad influence on you Caulfield, after that disaster at Wells’ office the other day.”

“Well, when you put it like that,” Max said, with one of her adorable little smiles.

“Good, Price and Caulfield, pirates at large,” Chloe said, throwing her arm around the smaller girl, suddenly in a fantastic mood.

“Partners in crime?”

“Partners in crime too.”

“So what are we going to do with the rest of today?” Max said, as Chloe let her go.

“Damn, with no leads until we get that laptop I don’t really have any plans. And you’re fucking suspended, ‘cause you’re such a bad girl. We could go to the junkyard? No, Frank knows about that. I’m running low on gas so we can’t really go out of town, not unless we want to syphon. Uhhh, bigfoot hunting?”

“I’m pretty sure the Bigfoots are all in class right now,” Max chuckled.

“Alright, jokester, what do you want to do, then?”

“Well, I do have a laptop, and a dorm room.”

“And?”

“Well,” Max said, suddenly hesitant, “we could sneak you into my room, watch some movies Warren got me, eat some snacks, and chill? You know, if you’re cool with sneaking into a place where you’re really not supposed to be, that is?”

“Do I look like someone who cares about rules like that?” Chloe said, gesturing to herself. “Come on, let’s chili.”

***

“Holy shit,” Chloe said, a few hours later, as the movie finished, “that was horrible. What the fuck did we just watch, Max?”

“Final Fantasy, Spirits Within.”

“God, are all the movies you like this bad? That was fucking terrible. I feel sorry for Warren, on that date, I think the movies they're showing will actually get worse, if you like them.”

“Hey, Warren would’ve loved it.”

They were sitting together on Max’s little dorm room bed, under her wall of photos. When they had first entered Chloe had been pissed and infuriated by the graffiti on her wall. Graffiti that Nathan must have written. It had taken Max a while to quiet her down, but eventually she agreed to sit next to her, and watch that movie. They were still sitting there now, across from her dead plant, and Kate’s alive rabbit.

“Right, and why would I care about Warren’s?”

“Because he’s got a good taste in movies?”

“Yeah, but, like, he’s a man, and straight on top of that. I don’t get straight culture, especially with him, fucking white knight, nerdy type of kid, probably the son of rich parents to go here.”

“You don’t have to be so mean to him,” Max said, softly.

“Right, sure, but, like, why do you like him?” Chloe said, shifting away from Max, turning around and hanging off her bed, her arms trailing down to the floor.

“He’s nice.”

“Nice to you, maybe, but probably only ‘cause he wants something. That’s how all men are.”

“Not every boy is like David,” Max said, with a smile, as she shut the laptop, and hung off the bed beside Chloe, each of them looking at the room upside down.

“True, that’d be a hella shitty universe. Hella shittier. But still, what else does he have going for him?”

“He’s smart.”

“A lot of people are smart. What’s her name, Brooke? She’s smart.”

“So?” Chloe said, a smile in her voice. “Got a crush on her?”

“Fuck no, nerds aren’t my type,” Chloe snorted, with a fake laugh.

“And also Warren did get the shit kicked out of him by Nathan.”

There was a lull in the conversation between them, as they hung off the bed, side by side, the comforter slowly sliding underneath them. From this angle Chloe knew Max could not see her face. She felt safe, despite everything, and comfortable. It made no sense given how shitty this morning had been. But maybe all that adrenaline had tired her. She felt drained, now, and comfortable, full of sugary snacks.

“Heh, it just hit me, right now we actually are doing what I told Joyce the other day, as an excuse.”

“Talking about boys?” Max asked.

“Yeah.”

“Does your mom know?” Max said, her voice low and gentle.

“What, that I’m gay? Oh, right, you were in the garage this morning when that was going down. Yeah, she knows. Probably has known for awhile. Before you came back out me and her blew up at each other about David being a homophobic dickhead.”

“Chloe, I am so, so sorry you have to live with that.”

“Yeah, well, it’s not the worst thing in my life.”

“It’s not?”

“Rachel’s missing, Frank’s gonna kill me, and aside from you I hate this whole fucking town,” Chloe said, the feeling of safety vanishing, as she pulled herself back up onto the bed. “My life is all fucked up, and I fucking seriously don’t think it’s all my fault.”

“So who do you blame?” Max asked, as she too sat up, and leaned her back against the graffitied wall, just inches away from Chloe.

“My fucking dad of course,” Chloe said, using her anger to stop herself from crying. “Hello?”

“You blame William? Really?” Max said incredulously.

“Yes, I do,” Chloe said, the words spilling out of her mouth, “he chose to go out that door and leave me forever.”

“Chloe, your dad didn’t choose to leave you.”

“I know that, Max,” Chloe said, her voice breaking. “My mom actually blames herself. Just because she wanted a ride home from work. Sometimes even I blame her.”

“No, you don’t.”

“Yes, Max, I do,” Chloe insisted, the words barely making it past her teeth. “Do you know what it’s like to wait for your father to come home, as a kid, and he never does?”

“No, of course not,” Max said, and Chloe could feel the sudden anger inside her starting to break, as she saw the strange, far off look on Max’s face. “But I was with you that day, it was just a terrible accident.”

“I wish that made me feel better,” Chloe sniffed, suddenly aware of the tears in her eyes, “but ever since he left my life has been dipped in shit.”

“You don’t want to hear this,” Max said, her voice stronger than before, “but you’re still here, alive, with me.”

“You’re right,” Chloe said, wiping her nose on her hand, and coming away with a glob of snot, “I don’t want to hear that.”

“Why not?”

Chloe was crying. She was not sobbing, the same way she had after Nathan, and the bathroom. She was not in the fetal position, like she had been after Kate’s suicide attempt. But tears were streaming down her face, into the bandage, already probably ruined by rain and pool water, and underneath, stinging her wound. She could not remember the last time she cried in front of someone else. She wanted to run away, to leave. It was so fucking embarrassing.

But then, before she could, Max’s arm was around her, and she was leaning against her, real, warm, and comforting.

“Fuck it, ‘cause I didn’t always want to be alive,” Chloe spat out between her teeth. “After my dad died, after you left, that was the first time I had the thoughts, but they’ve been with me ever since. After Rachel, fuck, after Nathan drugged me, after the bathroom, the thoughts came back. I’d been down to those tracks so many time, fucking playing chicken with the goddamn trains. Seeing Kate up on that roof, remembering how shitty I’d been trying to keep you from calling her, it brought back a lot of stuff I used to feel when I didn’t want to be alive. Still do, sometimes.”

“Chloe,” Max said, her voice soft, as she pushed herself closer to the taller girl, “I don’t even know what to say.”

“You knew what to say with Kate,” Chloe laughed, through her tears.

“I was just making up that shit as I went along, dude.”

“Hella good at making things up then, bro,” Chloe said, rubbing her nose again, as the tears started to die down. “And doing a pretty good job now.”

They sat there in silence, for some time, together, their bodies close together. Chloe felt safe, like she had not felt safe in a long time. She knew if she slept there would be nightmares of Nathan, and William, and maybe more weird shit, like the eclipse, last night. But at the same time she was exhausted, spent from days of intense emotion. And there was no one she trusted more in that moment than Max, no one she trusted more to not stab her in her sleep. She wondered if Max was as tired as she was.

“We gonna wake up and rob your house tonight?” Max asked, her head slipping down Chloe’s shoulder.

“Hell yeah, just gonna nap a bit first.”

“Me too. Hey, Chloe?”

“Yeah Max?”

“I’m glad you’re alive.”

“Yeah, me too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, poor, poor Chloe.
> 
> As always, hope you guys are enjoying reading!


	11. Does It Hurt You At Night?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A nighttime heist, perhaps, and a night on the beach. Crimes.
> 
> CW for mentions of homophobic violence.

Does It Hurt You At Night?

“The clouds methought would open, and show riches, ready to drop upon me; that, when I waked, I cried to dream again.”

-The Tempest

Chloe dreamt she was in another world, shuttled down another one of the universe’s infinite possibilities, spiraling out forever. Chaos theory, driven by the single flap of a butterfly’s wings, or a drop of water rolling down one side of a hand, instead of the other. She dreamt that William was alive, and together with Joyce. They were all together, one happy family, once again. And David was just, like, a fucking bus driver or something. Also there was something about a wheelchair, and a tornado, and dying birds, and some different her, with prison tattoos, and a shaved head.

“Chloe?”

“...life support,” Chloe muttered, snapping back to consciousness. “What?”

“Woah there, tiger, you were dreaming.”

Chloe’s eyes were blurry, and it took her a moment to focus on the world around her, as she returned to waking. It was dark outside. There was the rabbit, and the dead plant. Spit was dribbling down her chin, and she moved to wipe it off her face. It was only then that she became aware of the weight on her arm. She had slumped down the wall, towards the foot of the bed, and Max apparently had fallen asleep across her arm, resting on her side, her head just below Chloe’s tits. She apparently had just poked Chloe’s face, and was smiling up at her, now.

“Hey, Max.”

“Hey, Chloe.”

“Listen, as sweet and romantic as this moment is,” Chloe said, before her waking mind could censor the joke, “can you please move? My arm feels like it’s about to fall off.”

“Oh, sorry.”

“Yeah,” Chloe said, as Max awkwardly leveraged herself off her arm. “Ouch. No worries, just a little numb, but you let me crash on your bed, so I figure we’re all good. Ready to go do some crimes?”

“Crimes, Chloe,” Max grinned.

“Crimes,” Chloe grinned back. “But, uhh, before we get out of here can I go take a shit? Do you think anyone will be up?”

“I don’t think so, no,” Max said, stretching.

“Hella rad, be right back.”

Chloe pulled herself to her feet, and peeked her head out into the hallway. No one was there. She walked down the hall, hung a left, and poked her head into the bathroom. Once again, no one was there. She locked the stall door behind her, pulled her jeans down, and took a seat. And right at that moment someone else walked into the bathroom, and sat down in the stall next to her.

“Shit,” the unmistakable voice of Victoria Chase said from behind the partition, “millions of dollars from donors and this school can’t even keep toilet paper stocked. Hey, would you mind handing me some from over there? Thanks.”

Chloe bit her tongue, as she handed one of the extra rolls under the barrier, trying to focus on the graffiti. Standard accusations that people were gay. The student in question was not, Chloe knew, but it was still a good distraction from beating Victoria’s ass. What did that one scrawl in big, heavy sharpie even mean? Nuke Possum Springs? Then she was finishing her business, and trying to wash her hands and get out of there, when Victoria walked out of the stall.

“Shit,” Chloe muttered.

“Chloe Price?” Victoria Chase laughed. “Max Caulfield’s little pet? Figures she’d be hanging around the local trash with the fucked up face.”

“Tired of sucking Mark Jefferson’s dick, Victoria?” Chloe retorted. “Want to take some time off to shit talk someone who you know will always be a better photographer than you?”

“You little bitch,” Victoria spat, anger dying her face red. “I am going to fucking win that contest and go to San Francisco, and your little girlfriend can’t stop me.”

“Bite my entire ass, Victoria,” Chloe said, wiping her hands on her jeans. “Go legally brain dead from lack of oxygen from choking on my entire ass!”

“You’re going to get in so much trouble when you get found out hiding out in our dorms,” Victoria threatened.

But Chloe did not bother to reply. She flipped off the preppy bitch, and stalked out of the bathroom, back to Max’s room.

“Ready to go?” She asked, as she opened the door.

“Yeah,” Max replied, pulling on a jacket.

“That’s not the one with the blood, is it?”

“No, different one.”

“Damn girl,” Chloe snorted, as they both left the room, “how many plain grey hoodies do you need?”

“Hey! I like them! They’re comfortable and easy to wear.”

“As I said, you don’t have a style yet, but keep your voice down,” Chloe hissed, as they made their way to the exit.

“Why, was there someone awake?”

“I’ll tell you about it after we nab that laptop. Come on.”

They snuck out, to Chloe’s truck, which coughed way, way too loudly, as they sped out of the parking lot. The stars were clear, overhead, and the moon cast a white, dim glow on everything. The radio murmured quietly, like a distant chant to strange, alien gods, and Chloe found a sense of wild optimism shooting through her chest, despite the universe, her life, and everything.

“So what’s the plan, Captain Chloe?” Max asked, as they pulled onto her street.

“Argh, shiver me timbers, I’m gonna make you walk the plank.”

“Does everything have to be a joke with you?” Max complained.

“No, just the serious things. Okay, first things first, David’s got a shit ton of guns in there, so we need to be quiet.”

“That’s really cereal trouble, Chloe.”

“Already in hella trouble, dude!” Chloe protested, as she killed the engine, a couple of houses down from her parent’s home. “Point is, we shouldn’t have to worry about it. David should be heading out for his graveyard shift soon, and then Joyce’ll be asleep. I’ve got the keys. We just wait for him to leave, wait a minute more, and go in and get it. If your boyfriend wakes up early enough we might even have it back before he gets home!”

“Warren’s not my boyfriend,” Max said again.

“Save it, girlfriend, there he goes now.”

As they watched, David walked out of the house, and drove away from them, off towards Blackwell. Max moved to open the door but Chloe hissed, and stopped her. She counted up to one hundred, and then back down. Despite what the internet said this made her feel no better. She held her breath, and then let it out. This also had no effect on her mood.

“Chloe,” Max hissed, “what are we doing out here?”

“Waiting for mom to sleep. Alright, now let’s go.”

They sped across the lawns and driveways to the front door, fast and low. Chloe held a finger to her lips, waited a moment, and then unlocked the door.

“Where are you going?” Max said in a shrill whisper, as Chloe started going up the stairs.

“To get my weed!” Chloe said back in a stage whisper.

“We don’t have time for your weed!”

“Yes we do! I paid for it!”

“Your mom is right up there!”

“I know, and the computers right over there!”

“So?” Max hissed again.

“So go get it!”

“Me?”

“No, Brooke Scott. Of course you! Go get it, and meet me back here.”

Chloe turned and ran up the stairs two at a time, before Max could object again. She avoided the stairs that creaked, out of long-trained habit, and opened her door slowly, and then the weed was safely stashed in her jacket. She was almost at the door, when, on a whim, grabbed something for Max. And then she was back downstairs, and Max was running up to her with the computer in her hands.

“I got it!” She said excitedly. “I got it, I got it Chloe!”

“Shhh, shh, wait until we get back to my truck!”

They were out the door, locking it behind them, speeding back through the night, and into the truck in moments.

“I got it!” Max shouted excitedly.

“You got it, Max!” Chloe replied, throwing her arms around the girl in her passenger seat.

“I did, wanna look inside?” Max said, almost vibrating with excitement, as Chloe held her.

“Uh, I think we’ll just end up locking it, again. We need Warren, remember?”

“Oh, right,” Max said, as Chloe pulled away from her. “He’s not gonna be up for a while.”

“You mean he doesn’t wake up super early and spy on the girls?” Chloe joked.

“Hey! He would never do that.”

“He’s a guy. He would. You just haven’t caught him yet. But fuck, we can’t really go back to Blackhell.”

“Why not?”

“The step-dong is going to be prowling around it all night, looking out for entitled queers and hippies, you know? And we can’t bail town, ‘cause of gas,” Chloe said, drumming her fingers on the wheel, before an idea suddenly came to her. “You ever slept out on the beach, Caulfield?”

“No,” Max said, raising an eyebrow in the pale light of the moon. “Is that a thing that people do?”

“Hell yeah,” Chloe said, pulling out onto the road. “You need more crust punks in your life. Time to live a little, Max.”

She fell quiet as they sped towards the shore, the road rumbling, uneven, and poorly maintained beneath them. It was illegal, Chloe knew. Well, she suspected it was illegal, at least, to stay out on the beach. But since when had that stopped her? And since when had the Arcadia cops been halfway decent at their jobs? The sand and concrete of the parking lot slid around under her tires, and she was leaping out of the truck, and sliding across the hood to open the door for Max.

“Why so polite?” Max asked, as she stepped out, leaving the laptop behind on the passenger seat.

“Sometimes I feel like being a gentleman,” Chloe shrugged, before shutting the door behind her. “Welcome to the beach, girl.”

“It’s beautiful,” Max said, looking up at the sky above them.

For a moment Chloe tried to see it through her eyes. She had spent five years in Seattle, she imagined. She had been living in an apartment with her parents for all that time. Would she have seen the stars in that time, stretching out overhead, not drowned out by the light of a million light bulbs burning through the night? Would she have seen the ocean, with its little white topped waves glinting in the moonlight, stretching out to dark infinities? Who would she have spent time with, up there? And how would Arcadia Bay look to her? How would a blue haired punk chick with a gash across her face look to her?

“You have to kick off your shoes,” Chloe said, trying to shake herself out of the train of thought, as she pulled off her boots, “really feel the sand between your toes, city girl.”

“Hey, Chloe,” Max said, as she did, “I’ve got a question.”

“Okay, shoot,” Chloe said, as she held her hand out for Max to take.

“You’ve got a key to your house, right?” Max said, taking her hand and following her out onto the sand, towards the surf. “And Joyce just didn’t want me there, after the weed, and the fight with David. She didn’t, like, kick you out or anything. So why couldn’t you just, like, walk in and steal the laptop?”

“Max,” Chloe said seriously, taking her by the shoulders, “pay attention, ‘cause this is really serious. We had to do it like that ‘cause it was hella fun.”

There was a moment between them, under the light of the moon. Hand on shoulder, eye meeting eye, waves crashing nearby, sand between their toes. Then Chloe started laughing.

“You asshole!” Max laughed, as she punched her in the shoulder.

“Oh, come on,” Chloe said, as she sat down onto the sand with a heavy thump. “You can’t tell me that it wasn’t fun.”

“Still an asshole move!” Max insisted, as she sat down beside her.

“Probably,” Chloe said. “You mind if I light up?”

“Go for it.”

Chloe pulled the weed out of her jacket, and flicked her lighter, a tiny spark in the middle of the night. She took a deep breath, and exhaled, before she spoke, the laughing, joking tone gone.

“Seriously, though, fuck staying in that house while David’s still there. I can’t believe that Joyce is still standing by that bastard. You’re the only damn good thing in this town, and if you can’t be there then why even bother?”

“Well,” Max said, leaning back on her hands and looking up at the sky, “Kate’s okay.”

“Sure, yeah, she’s cool. But aside from that? Nothing good about Arcadia Bay. Not since Rachel left, at least.”

“You crushed on her?” Max asked, in the night.

“She was my angel,” Chloe said, after a long breath. “Nothing seemed to touch her, or hold her down. I don’t know. My head and emotions are all fucked up, and I don’t know what I was to her. Never knew. But I think I did, yeah. Do.”

“I’m sorry Chloe.”

The silence stretched between them for a long time, as Chloe tried to make herself go numb, before answering.

“Yeah, me too. You, uhh, you know David hit me, right?”

“Wait, what?” Max yelled, turning to face her.

“Shhh, keep your voice down, I’m not even sure we’re allowed out here.”

“Tell me, Chloe. Now.”

“I thought of it, ‘cause, well,” Chloe said, with a sigh, “he didn’t like Rachel. Thought we were too close. Homophobe. And, well, he’s hit me a few times. But once was ‘cause of her, after she disappeared.”

“Holy shit,” Max muttered, throwing her arm around the taller girl, as she hunched forward towards her knees, “I’m so sorry, Chloe. Does Joyce know?”

“Of course,” Chloe said, feeling the anger rising inside of her. “She’s not an idiot. She just keeps making excuses for him ‘cause he’s a vet. Well fuck him, and fuck her. And in all this shit, this shitty town, full of Prescotts, and assholes, I don’t know, Rachel was the one okay thing. Is it wrong that I maybe fell in love with her?”

“No, of course not,” Max said, giving the taller girl a squeeze.

They sat there for a long time, as the tide receded, and the moon and stars moved overhead. Night stretched on, cold and cool, but despite herself, as she sat close to Max, Chloe felt warm. She eventually stretched her arms out, overhead, and yawned.

“Care for a hit?” She offered.

“Of weed?”

“Of course weed, dude,” Chloe said, giving her a gentle shove. “Do you think I meant heroin?”

“I, uhhh, I’ve never taken any.”

“I can tell,” Chloe laughed. “Just like you’ve never kissed anyone. Come on, I’ve talked your ear off about my shit. What the fuck did I miss up there in Seattle? Did you just stay inside taking pictures all day?”

“I mean, more or less.”

“Sister,” Chloe said, leaning back and looking her up and down, “that was supposed to be a joke, and you were, like, supposed to call me an asshole again. What gives? Are you parents secretly just hella shitty?”

“No!” Max insisted passionately. “They’re really good. After we left, after William, they even offered to get me therapy.”

“Therapy?”

“Listen, Chloe,” Max said, rubbing the back of her head, “I didn’t say it earlier, because it sounds so selfish, but I took your dad’s death really hard.”

“Huh,” Chloe said, laying down, slowly her head resting on the sand, “I had no idea, dude.”

“Yeah. I turned them down, since they’d be taking out loans for it,” Max said, like the words were falling out of her. “And after that, well, I hated it. I hated Seattle, and leaving this town. I know you hate Arcadia Bay but I think that it always felt like my home was back here, with you. I went to school. I got good at art. I watched movies. I didn’t really have much of a life up there without you.”

“And turns out I didn’t have much of a life down here without you,” Chloe muttered. “Glad you’re back, dude.”

“Yeah, me too.”

“You know, it’s pretty late.”

“We could go back to the dorms?” Max offered, with worry in her voice.

“No, nothing like that,” Chloe laughed. “Besides Victoria is probably going to get me in trouble when we are back.”

“You ran into her?” Max said, lying down on the smooth, cold sand beside Chloe.

“Yeah, in the bathroom. She’s such a little bitch, trash talking you, trying to suck up to Jefferson for that photo contest. Can’t wait until you win it and put her in her place.”

“I’m not going to put my name into it,” Max announced.

“Dude,” Chloe said, rolling over and looking at her, from mere inches away, “you have to stop second guessing yourself. You’ve got a serious talent, if you could stop doubting your every move you could make this world bow down before you. With me at your side, of course.”

“Pirate queens?” Max said, rolling over and staring back at her, their noses almost touching.

“I like the sound of that, yeah,” Chloe grinned. “So put a photo in that stupid contest, before it finishes tonight.”

“No,” Max said, returning to her back, to stare up at the stars, “but before you say anything, no, it’s not because of self-doubt. These past few days with you, they’ve felt different. Up in the air. Important, I don’t know. Like the universe is turning around Arcadia Bay, around you and me. I can’t imagine leaving you to go to San Francisco with a bunch of fancy rich people. Not right now, in the middle of looking for Rachel, and holding Nathan responsible for whatever he had to do with her and poor Kate. Let Victoria go, she’ll enjoy it.”

“But you can imagine leaving me tomorrow night to go to that movie marathon with straight dude number three?”

“They’re good movies!”

“Fine, fine, I’ll let it drop,” Chloe said, turning away from her. “But you still are more talented than Victoria though. By a lot.”

“Of course you’d say that,” Max said, with her stupidly adorable laugh.

“Hey, what’s that mean?” Chloe said defensively, as she felt herself flush.

“It means you like me.”

“Duh, of course. You survived all of stupid Seattle, and your emotions, and whatever, and came back with your pictures, helping me find Rachel, and you’re maybe a time traveler. And you also survived my dad dying.”

“We did together.”

“Yeah, of course, Max.”

“Hey, Chloe?” Max asked, after a long, long pause.

“What’s up, Max?”

“It’s really late, and I think Warren gets up early. Wanna just wait out here until the sunrise? Like we did when we were kids, never falling asleep?”

“I’d love to.”

The two girls lay there, as the tide ran out away from them, side by side. They each stared up at the stars. Chloe thought about galaxies, and universes colliding out there. She didn’t care about them, spiraling away into their dark infinities. She didn’t care about the moon, or the smooth hard sand, or the soft incandescent glow of Arcadia Bay behind her. But she did care that as she slid her hand over, inching it closer to the other girl, Max took it in hers, and held it. That was her lighthouse, her safety, guiding her home in a strange and dangerous world.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, look, discussion of Max's emotions.
> 
> Sorry, was going to post this last night, and instead I got in a huge conversation with my SO. So here it is now. As always, enjoy!


	12. Not One Part Remains

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A revelation of new information starts a confrontation, and a familiar person reappears.
> 
> CW for homophobic slurs, and interpersonal violence.

Not One Part Remains

“We were neither what we had been, nor what we would become once we reached our destination.”

-Annihilation, by Jeff VanderMeer

The day stole over them slowly, starting with birdsong, then a lightening greyness in the air, replacing the darkness of night. Mist crept over them, as the two girls stayed together, hand in hand. And then, slowly, the mist and fog gave way to a soft, diffuse dim light, the beginnings of sunrise. Out over the water Chloe could see dolphins, and maybe even a pod of whales, huge and grey, moving under the surface, alien and beautiful.

“You still awake, brah?” Max asked.

“Unfortunately, yes, if I have to hear you talk like that. Good morning,” Chloe said, finally removing her hand from Max’s, and immediately missing it’s presence.

“Warren’s probably awake by now.”

“So I guess that means we need to get over to Blackhell,” Chloe groaned, as she stood up, wiping sand off her jeans. “Finally get into all of step-failure’s shit, oh, wait, I have something for you, before we leave for your boyfriend.”

“He’s, like, more like my little brother,” Max insisted. “Sorry, sorry, getting defensive. What’s the thing?”

“The old phone we decorated together,” Chloe said, awkwardly handing it to her. “I don’t think it still works, but, you know, hang onto it, okay?”

“Radical, thank you, Chloe,” Max said, smiling up at her.

“Right, will do. Now, let’s go crack this case wide open.”

The truck groaned underneath them, but coughed to life. They were pulling out of the beach’s sandy parking, and onto the road when Chloe cursed, and suddenly hit the gas, the engine roaring in response.

“What is it?” Max said.

“Frank’s RV. He’s probably heading down to the beach to sleep for the day,” Chloe said, still speeding away. “Shit, shit, fuck. I don’t think he saw us? But I really, really don’t want to see him until I have his money.”

“You okay, Chloe?” Max said, reaching across to her, and then drawing her hand back quickly.

“Yeah, let’s just fucking get this over with. Just text Warren, tell him to meet us in the parking lot.”

Warren was there in the parking lot, waiting for them, with a stupid grin plastered across his face as they pulled in. Chloe tried to ignore him, as he went and sat in the bed of her pickup, next to Max, with the computer between them, talking about gibberish. That was the same place she had cried, after Nathan, and after Rachel, and Chloe could not bring herself to be back there now. Instead she sat on the hood, as the sun threatened to poke its head over the hills, the mist swirled around Blackwell, and smoke rose gently from her cigarette. She was jealous, she knew, but right now she just wanted to be numb again. So she zoned out, into the haze, until Warren yelled.

“Eureka! Hacker voice, I’m in.”

“You did good, Warren,” Max said, her voice happy, in a way that made Chloe’s skin crawl, as she walked back to them.

“Alright, you did your job, Warren,” she said, between her teeth. “What do we got in there?”

“Oh, it was easy,” Warren said, to no one in particular, as Chloe climbed into the bed, looming over the pair of them, her head between them, looking over his shoulder. “It wasn’t encrypted well. I can just change the password to, say Warren, and ta da! Done! Wait, what’s this?”

“What is it?” Chloe asked, fear spiking through the jealousy she had been feeling.

“There are a bunch of encrypted files here, pictures of, what, license plates? Coordinates? Whose computer is this?”

“Never mind that,” Chloe shouted, pushing him over, and grabbing the computer from him. “What the fuck is this?”

“Chloe, what is it?” Max asked, rising to her feet.

Warren was right about one thing, there was a lot of information on David’s computer. More than enough to prove he was a paranoid wannabe spy, and get him kicked out of the house. More than enough to help them find Rachel, hopefully. But in that moment Chloe did not care about any of that. She could not bring herself to care about anything else. Not now. It was a picture of Rachel and Frank, together.

“No, no, no, no, no, no, shit, shit, shit, fuck,” Chloe said, slamming the computer closed. “They can’t have been more than friends. She was just teasing him, right? Just posing? The way she always did?”

“Chloe, what is going on? What did you see?” Max said, as Warren stood, and took a step back.

“Frank and Rachel,” Chloe said, her pacing making the truck rock back and forth. “Shit, shit, fuck, I need to go kill Frank.”

“Miss Price,” a new voice said, suddenly, as a ray of sunlight pierced through the mist, “I believe you were expelled from this institution. I am going to have to ask you to leave these premises or I will be forced to call security on you.”

Chloe watched as Principal Wells emerged from the fog, like some sort of avenging spirit. She hated him, so much, and herself, and Arcadia Bay, and Rachel and Frank, and everything else. But right at that moment, most of all, she hated Victoria Chase, standing behind Wells, and smirking.

“Fucking hope you die, Victoria,” Chloe spat, as she leapt from the side of her truck, laptop tucked under her arm. “Get out of here, Warren. Max, you’re coming with me.”

“Wait, what?” Warren protested weakly.

“Get lost, Warren!” Chloe shouted again, as she slammed the driver’s door, and stabbed the key into the ignition.

There was one beat, one moment where Chloe was afraid that Max would leave her, and go with him. And then the passenger door opened, and Max climbed in, leaving Chloe free to flip off Victoria as she left Blackwell for good.

“You can’t always order me around, Chloe,” Max said, softly.

“Not fucking right now, Max,” Chloe snapped, hating herself for the anger she felt, and for lashing out at Max of all people.

“Where are we even going?”

“Down to Frank’s RV, at the beach.”

“What are you hoping to find?”

“He had Rachel’s bracelet. Motherfucker better not have anything else, and better have some damned good answers or he’s going to regret it.”

“Chloe, we have enough to tell Joyce,” Max said, insistently.

“We will, but after I beat some answers out of Frank.”

“Chloe,” Max began again, before Chloe cut her off.

“Max, whatever you are going to say I don’t want to hear it. Not right now. Frank knows more than me, and I need to know. End of story.”

They fell silent, as they sped towards the beach. Part of Chloe felt guilty, as usual, for lashing out at Max like she did. But that part was far, far overwhelmed by the anger inside of her. Right now the only voice inside her she could pay attention to was the one that was raging that she should beat Frank’s ass to a fine mist, and then maybe track down Rachel, and beat her ass too, if she cheated on her. Or, well, if she had slept with him, at least. If she had lied.

She pulled onto the beach, as the sun started passing overhead, and got out before Max could talk her out of it, before her anger faded, or she reconsidered anything. The RV was sitting there, but Frank had probably passed out before he could do anything else. No chair, no awning, nothing yet. She looked back, and almost said a prayer to anyone listening, hoping that Max, or god, or gods, or the universe itself, would talk her out of it. No one did, as she walked around, and knocked on the door, with Max at her side.

“Go the fuck away, I’m asleep!” Frank shouted from inside, as his stupid dog started to bark.

“No, you’re not, Frank!” She shouted, stoking her anger. “It’s Chloe. We need to fucking talk.”

There was a long, long pause before the door swung open, and Frank emerged, just as putrid as ever, with Rachel’s bracelet around his wrist.

“Oh look,” he groaned, “the wonder twins. You should’ve come alone with your fucked up face.”

“She’s my partner,” Chloe said, gesturing to Max, as she stepped forward, between Frank and Max, feeling that protective instinct again, even through her anger.

“Yeah, or girlfriend. Let’s get to business, where’s my fucking money?”

“I don’t have your money yet,” she said, trying to hold onto her anger, as she looked up at him, and he kept getting closer. “But I need to ask you some questions.”

“You have some serious ladyballs. No.”

“Answer the question, Frank,” Max said, her voice low, strange and serious, from behind Chloe’s back.

“Jesus, okay, okay,” he muttered. “But I’m not getting you high.”

“We’re not here to get high,” Max said, her voice intense.

“No, you don’t look like the type. Not like Chloe here. What do you Hardy Boys want?” Frank asked.

“The names of all your clients, what you sold to them, and when,” Max barked, before Chloe could open her mouth and ask Frank about Rachel, like she really wanted to know.

“Is that all? Why didn’t you just fucking tell me? Why don’t I just give you the keys to my RV while I’m at it?”

“Did Rachel cheat on me with you?” Chloe burst in, before Max could say anymore.

“Jesus, is this really why you’re here?” Frank laughed, and Chloe hated it. “It’s always about Rachel, isn’t it? You didn’t know her like I did, Chloe.”

“Fuck you, Frank,” Chloe said, all the anger of Nathan’s drugs and his gun in her ribs, and Kate’s attempt, and Joyce demanding evidence, spilling out. “What the fuck did you do to her? Where the fuck is she?”

“Rachel’s not in here!” He yelled, inches away from her now. “I had nothing to do with her disappearance, just ‘cause she wasn’t into a goddamn dyke like you, just cause she needed a real man…”

The fist whipped out, flying on its own towards his face. Chloe almost didn’t realize it was hers until it connected, and blood spilled out of his nose.

“You little skank,” Frank began, drawing a knife, his arm lowering.

The next moment was a blur. Three things happened in quick succession. First, Max shot past Chloe, shoving her out of the way, and slamming into Frank. In almost the same motion she kicked the door to the RV closed, slamming it on Frank’s dog. And lastly, but still moving fluidly, and efficiently, she pulled Frank backwards, knocking the knife from his hand, and pinning him in an arm bar choke.

“You should be afraid of me, Frank,” Max whispered in his ear, and, as the anger finally died down inside her, Chloe realized what had changed, and that Max was moving, and speaking differently.

She was efficient, predatory, and frightening. She was future Max, once again answering her prayers.

“I don’t fear anyone but my maker,” Frank said, but his face was pale.

“Your maker? A god?” Future Max said, with a wild, dangerous glint in her eye, as Chloe watched in horror. “I don’t see any god but me, here, Frank Bowers. I can unmake you. November 1986, a trucker working for Bay and Creek Shipping stops for lunch just north of Kansas City and meets a waitress at a diner called Praxis Luncheon. Do you know how easy it would be to make them never meet? Didn’t you ever want to know what happened to Pompidou’s trainer?”

“Who the fuck are you,” Frank shouted, going limp, looking like a rag doll in Max’s tiny, waifish arms.

“I’m the fucking devil, Frank. Your worst nightmare. I know what your porn history is, your actual history, and your future. I know what happened to Laura Palmer, and if you don’t give me what I want, then everyone else will know too. All your secrets will be told, and I will kill you slowly.”

“What do you want?”

“I’m going to let go of you,” Future Max growled in his ear. “I want you to drop your keys, your codes, all the records of your deals, and anything else in your pockets on the ground. Then I want you to get Pompidou, and take a walk for a few hours, before you come back here. Then just drive away, and never come back to Arcadia Bay. Do I make myself clear?”

“Yes.”

“Good, here we go.”

Max let go of him, and Chloe saw marks around Frank’s neck. He stared at Max, with fear in his eyes, as one line of blood ran down her face. She could black back out at any time, Chloe knew, as she watched, realizing her mouth had been open. Her Max could come back at any time, not this horrific, other Max. But Max still held Frank’s gaze, as he emptied his pockets, slowly walked to the RV, took his dog, and walked out of sight, down the beach, in stoney silence.

“Future Max?” Chloe said, finally, turning to her, as another trail of blood fell down from her other nostril, dripping into her mouth.

“Are you cereal, that’s what you calling me?” She asked, turning to face Chloe. “The other ones called me Bay Max at least. Future Max is so boring, so general. Could describe so many of us. Also, I like the bandage, it looks good on you.”

“Who are you?" Chloe said, refusing to get distracted. "What happens, happened, that makes you become like this? That? You’re not my Max.”

“I am her, dumbass,” she said, holding a hand to her temple. “I am one of many potential versions of her she’s left behind. Or will have left behind. Although your Max is already diverging from me, I think. For one she has no powers, while I am a version of her that’s been through a lot of shit, and learned some shit too, along the way.”

“Why are you here?”

“I have a few theories,” she groaned, “but that’s not what’s important at the moment, listen, I’m barely holding on, right now, and I need to know, is there any sign that the storm is going to happen in this timeline?”

“What storm?” Chloe said, looking at Max’s eyes and seeing nothing familiar there.

She did not reply. She groaned, and bent over, her head in her hands. And like that, the confusion, and yes, even fear, that Chloe felt just moments before, looking at this future version of her crush, vanished. In that moment she was not even thinking about Frank and Rachel together. She just wanted to keep Max safe.

“Chloe?” Max asked, and her voice was different, familiar, once again her own, the Max that Chloe knew. “What just happened? Did I black out again?”

“Yeah, yeah, dude,” Chloe said, gently helping her to sit the ground. “ You kicked Frank’s ass, too and ran him off with his tail between his legs. We’ve got full run of his RV and all his records.”

“Chloe, what the hell is that?” Max said, with sudden fear in her voice, motioning out towards the sea.

Chloe slowly dragged her eyes away from Max, and her bleeding nose, following her gesturing, looking towards what she was pointing out. Four titanic shapes were emerging from the waves, all at once, breaking through the surf, in a fury of crashing water. It took Chloe a second to realize what she was looking at, to recognize them, even though she had seen them dozens of times before. They were whales, huge, and grey, beaching themselves, stranding themselves on the shore, and dooming themselves to death, as the two girls could only sit and watch.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey look, it's future Max, again! Here to kick names and take ass! Hope you enjoy!


	13. Stranding

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Whales, betrayal, and self-destruction.
> 
> CW for a mention of suicidality.

Stranding

“It would bring you to tears if you knew what I know. See I spent all my money on second hand love, and I trusted somebody, way back when, and I loved her like fire, until it drove me insane.”

-Gaslight Anthem, “Break Your Heart.”

“Come on,” Chloe said, as the whales slowly died, crushed under the weight of their own bodies, “people are going to be here soon to check that out, and Frank might come back at any time. We need to get in there.”

“What did I miss, Chloe?” Max asked, wiping the blood from her face. “What happened while I was out? Did future me say anything?”

“She said a little, after kicking Frank’s ass. Told him a lot of stuff that freaked him out, and sent him on his way. Not sure how she knew what to say. She asked me if a storm was coming, or something like that, does that mean anything to you?”

“No,” Max said, shaking her head numbly. “I’m just, what happens to me, Chloe? That turns me into that? What happened to her? Tell me she told you?”

“She didn’t,” Chloe said, resting her hand on Max’s shoulder, as she squatted next to the shorter girl. “But she did say something about being one of many possible you’s. I don’t think your fate is written yet.”

There was another long pause. Chloe still felt protective of the tiny girl in front of her, sitting on her ass, looking so tired. She wanted to give Max time to process all this, even as she felt the familiar anxiety around Rachel and Frank returning.

“Did Frank tell you about Rachel?” Max asked suddenly, looking up and gazing at Chloe. “The last thing I remember was you pounding on the door.”

“Yeah, yeah he did,” Chloe said, with a hard swallow. “They were together. Her and him. Insisted he didn’t know anything about her disappearance.”

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry, Chloe,” Max said, reaching a hand out towards her, “you must feel awful.”

“Oh, you know, my angel was actually sleeping with my dealer?” Chloe snarked, drawing back on instinct. “Maybe she needed a real fucking man in her life? Maybe she didn’t even like me? Maybe I was just an experiment for her? Nah, I feel hella fantastic.”

“Chloe, you don’t have to joke about it,” Max said, finally standing up.

“Yes, I do. ‘Cause you just went all Amazing SpiderMax on Frank, and right now we need to use this. If I let myself think about it right now I’m going to end up in a little sobbing ball of emotions. We can snoop in peace, but let’s be quick. Just, let me fucking deal with this in my own way right now?”

“Can we talk about this later, at least?”

“Yeah, yeah, sure. For now just follow my lead,” Chloe said, as she picked up the things Future Max had made Frank drop.

“Okay, fine,” Max said, with a heavy, disappointed sigh, as she followed Chloe inside the RV.

The transition from the morning brightness of the beach to the gloom of Frank’s living quarters took Chloe a moment to adjust to, and when she could see better she almost wished she could not. It was depressing, all the cardboard and signs blocking out the light, lining the windows. Dog hair settled on everything, and weed, drugs, bottles, old food, paraphernalia, and more shit she couldn’t even identify was piled everywhere. What would it be like living here for years? How would it fuck up your brain?

“Damn, and I thought my room was a shit hole,” she muttered.

“You’re not a creepy drug dealer,” Max jumped in.

“Yeah, Frank has issues, and still got someone like Rachel,” Chloe said bitterly. “Can’t believe I didn’t think he was creepy until I saw her fucking bracelet on his wrist.”

“Chloe.”

“Forget it, Max,” Chloe said, waving off the concern evident in her voice, as she sat down in the driver’s seat. “Oh, we could cruise anywhere in this bad boy. Can you see us heading down the coast to Big Sur and beyond?”

“Yes, we’d be tearing up the highway. And you’d dare me to drive it, if you were actually brave enough to dare me to do anything,” Max replied, her tone light for one moment before it grew serious again. “But come on, Chloe, stop putting it off. You were right, we are on a schedule. We need to find this information about Rachel.”

“I know, just daydreaming,” Chloe said, almost inaudibly. “And putting off what I’m afraid to find. We’ve already got the names of his customers, so poke around, and see if we can find anything else that might be useful. I’m going to get into his laptop, or at least see if we need Warren for this too.”

Max walked behind her, as Chloe opened up the laptop. There was no password. For all his shitty entitled assholery apparently Frank had never suspected that someone would actually be inside his RV. Or, maybe, Chloe thought, as she saw the pages he had opened, he only used this computer for porn and kept his actual records somewhere else. Also, fuck, eww, straight men were disgusting.

“I found something,” Max said, fortuitously interrupting her. “His records. And also these.”

There was a notebook that probably held his information. That and what he had given them, been forced to give them, outside would probably finally have a good lead hiding somewhere in them. Along with the shit on David’s laptop. But at that moment, despite herself, Chloe did not care about any of that. She was looking at the pictures. They were of Rachel, posed, with Frank. In one she was in her underwear. And worse, still, were the letters. Chloe took them from Max, and skimmed through them. It was Rachel, the same hot and cold way of acting. The same words. The same astrology. The same way she had spoken to Chloe.

“It makes me ill that Rachel posed like this, for Frank, or wrote him love letters,” Chloe began, her voice quiet at first, and then raising in intensity. “I can’t believe she was banging Frank! Rachel straight up lied to my face. Why didn’t she say anything?”

“Because she knew how you would react,” Max said, taking a step backwards, with a tone that might have been fear.

“Then she wasn’t much of a friend, was she?” Chloe yelled, as the rage built in her throat, threatening to choke her if she didn’t cry, and leading to her saying something she would regret, she knew. “Just another person who shits all over me. Why does everybody in my life let me down? My dad gets killed, you bail on me for years, mom gloms onto step-fucker, now Rachel betrays me.”

“Chloe,” Max said, and Chloe heard the hurt in her voice, and hated herself for causing that hurt, even as she held onto her anger, “Rachel is missing. We’ve been over all this, I’m sorry I didn’t reach out to you. And I’m sorry William died. It is shit.”

“It is,” Chloe said, starting to feel the tears prick in her eyes. “It’s bullshit. Fuck everyone.”

“Me too?” Max asked.

“Max,” Chloe said, standing up, and walking towards the door, “you’re fine, just don’t fucking talk right now.”

She walked out into the blinding light of day, as gulls flew overhead, and startled to settle on the beached whales, poking at them curiously. Already people were gathering around the huge, dead creatures, taking pictures, and gawking. Chloe blinked back tears, and stared up into the clear sky above, trying to ignore Max, who she felt standing behind her.

“Chloe, you know you can’t always blame me, and everyone else?” Max said, eventually.

“I don’t fucking blame you Max, we talked about this already,” Chloe said, breathing hard through her mouth, “but please just shut up and let me blame everyone else.”

“Chloe, you’re my best friend,” Max said, putting her hand on Chloe’s shoulder. “It’s okay to cry around me. You’ve already done that, at the dorm.”

“Sometimes I don’t want to fucking cry, Max,” Chloe said, as she tried to breath out her emotions. “Sometimes I don’t want to fucking feel anything except anger, okay? Or numb. And that’s right now, ‘cause if I feel anything else I’m going to end up in a little ball of shit emotions in the back of my pickup, or out screaming on railroad tracks again. So, please, just give me a fucking minute here.”

“Okay.”

They stood there, together, in the ocean wind, with Max’s hand on Chloe’s shoulder, for a long minute. The anger slowly faded inside Chloe, into a numb, hollow feeling. It was different, though, than before. She felt this. Knew that she was sad, even as she hated feeling it. But even so, eventually, she could talk again, and had to talk.

“I really was in love with her, you know?” She said, not bothering to turn around. “She was like this bright spark in a dark universe. And yeah, she wasn’t stable, wasn’t safe. She wasn’t a lighthouse, guiding me home. She was always on and off, one thing one moment, and another the next. You could fucking see that, even just in her shit-ass letters to Frank. And I think that kinda broke me, inside, if there’s anything left to break. Because I wanted to convince myself that she loved me too. That I deserved someone’s love. That I meant the same thing to her as she meant to me. But with her gone, with her fucking Frank, I guess the relationship really is fucking over. Ended a long time ago, if it ever existed in the first place. If I even was anything to her.”

“You do deserve love, Chloe,” Max said, softly.

“Yeah, well, the universe seems to have different opinions than you. Maybe whatever gods are out there, looking down on Arcadia Bay, don’t like me.”

“Then fuck the gods,” Max said, with her stupidly adorable laugh. “And fuck Rachel too, if she didn’t appreciate you for you.”

“No, Max,” Chloe said gently, as she turned, and took Max’s hand from her shoulder. “That was just who she was. Like, well, with me, my brain’s fucked up, you know? One second I love someone the next I’m lashing out at them. That’s just who I am. Rachel was just...Rachel. It’s like these whales, yeah? They swim up to this shore, even though they know it’ll kill them. Why? It’s just in their nature. Maybe it’s just in my nature to destroy myself, and anyone I get close to. Maybe that's my destiny. Maybe I don’t deserve any better.”

“No, Chloe,” Max said, emotion creeping into her voice, as she took both of Chloe’s hands, “do not say that. Listen, just because William died, and David’s an asshole, and Nathan’s a prick, and Joyce doesn’t listen, just because I had to leave, or Rachel didn’t appreciate you nearly enough, doesn’t mean you don’t matter. You aren't destined to destroy yourself. Your fate isn't written yet either. And, well, you matter to me.”

“Yeah,” Chloe sighed, finally looking up from her feet, and making eye-contact, “thanks Max, I, uh, appreciate it. Even if I’m not good at all this mushy shit.”

“Yeah, you aren’t,” Max laughed, letting go of her hands. “But it’s okay. You’re still Chloe.”

“That I am,” Chloe said, turning away, and looking back towards the sea. “Jesus, this day has already been a shit show. David’s laptop, Warren, Victoria, Frank. And I don’t even know what I was to Rachel.”

“Do you want to give up the search?”

“No, she still meant something to me, even if I was only an experiment, or a curiosity, or someone to use to her, and the only way we’ll know what I meant to her is if we find her. When we find her. Just, seriously, what a shit day.”

“I have an idea for something that just might make it better,” Max said, and even without looking Chloe knew she was smiling, probably one of those annoyingly cute smiles that made it that much harder to ignore how hot she was.

“Oh? And what would that be?”

“We take the proof in the laptop to Joyce and finally give the step-ass a taste of his own medicine.”

“Max,” Chloe said, turning around and grinning wickedly at Max, “you are getting better and better at being a partner in crime. Where did you ever learn?”

“Learning from the best, Cap’n,” Max grinned back. “Race you to the car like when we were kids?”

“Oh, it is on, Caulfield.”

The two young women ran, laughing, towards the truck, side by side, leaving the RV empty and abandoned behind them, and the keys glistening in the sand. Overhead gulls wheeled and cried. Behind them more and more crowds gathered, gawking at the whales that had stranded themselves on the shore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ngl, honestly loved writing this chapter and hope you enjoy reading it! I currently have, like, roughly five more chapters written, and it is so hard to post them one day at a time. Take care, and be safe.


	14. Bash Back

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The step-David gets kicked out of the house, and Joyce and Chloe have a little chat.

Bash Back

“There are those who think we're wicked, there are those who call us names, depraved, lost and sick and would rather bathe us in shame. But we put the sin in sincere, we put the do in the doubt, God is perfectly clear, we are perfectly out.”

-Erin McKeown, “The Queer Gospel.”

“What’s up, fuckers?” Chloe yelled at the top of her lungs, as she slammed the door open. “Oh, hey step-punk. What’s up?”

David was standing in the front hallway, just at the bottom of the steps, looking at the pictures on the wall, with a suitcase in his hand. Joyce was standing behind him, and Chloe knew with a glance that she’d been crying. Which made sense, since she was still here, and must have called off work. Behind Chloe, on the other side of the doorway, stood Max, with Chloe herself between the shorter girl and the danger, David, just the way it should be.

“Chloe?” Joyce said, her face brightening immediately. “Are you okay? Are you safe? I tried to call you!”

“Yeah, I was ignoring you,” Chloe said, crossing her arms, and leaning against the wall, trying to look cool. “What’s going on here?”

“Chloe,” David said, with a heavy sigh, and she hated how self-righteously sad he looked, as he said her name, like he even deserved to be sad, “me and your mom talked, and we think that it’s best that I stay at a hotel for a little while.”

“Wait, what?” Chloe asked, raising an eyebrow. “So we didn’t actually need to grab the proof?”

“Proof of what?” Joyce asked, from down the hallway.

“Proof that David was spying on, like, everyone in Arcadia Bay ever,” Chloe snorted. “Because me and Max have it, now, by the way. That’s, uh, that’s why I was here, actually, to, you know, fucking rub it in your face, asshole.”

The words were tentative, probing out into the emotional void, trying to get a reaction from David, trying to make him angry. But he still just looked sad.

“Yeah,” he muttered, “I bet you do.”

“We are going to have to talk about why and how you got this later, young woman!” Joyce said sternly.

“I guess we are,” she replied, with a roll of her eyes, “but for right now don’t let me stop you on your way out, David.”

“Chloe, I,” David began, before Chloe interrupted him, looking up at him with fire in her eyes.

“You’re what, David? Violent? Fucked up? A homophobic dickhead?”

“I’m sorry, Chloe, and, well, you should know, I took care of some things with the police for you, kept you out of trouble.”

Chloe looked up at him. He looked so sad, so pathetic, like he thought that would make a difference. Like he thought that by apologizing for everything, the violence, the abuse, the surveillance, it would be undone, just like that. Like one favor in keeping the cops off her ass would outweigh everything else he had ever done. She glanced backwards, at Max standing in the doorway, silhouetted against the daylight. Chloe could see the same emotions, anger, rage, and maybe even protectiveness, cross her face.

“David,” Chloe said, looking away, “you’ve done a lot of shit, and now that you’re having some actual consequences you’re realizing that. Deal with your shit, take care of your issues, but don’t expect just an apology to solve anything, let alone everything.”

David sighed, and turned. He looked back at Joyce, who frowned at him. Then he turned, and walked out the door. That should have been it, the end of David’s story, but before he left he passed by Max, stopped, and spoke to her.

“Well, you won this battle Max. You broke up my family. I salute you.”

“Leave her alone, fucker,” Chloe threatened.

“David,” Max said, a new tone in her voice, stepping closer to him, said, ignoring Chloe, “I didn’t try to hurt you. Ever. But I won’t let anybody hurt Chloe.”

Chloe recognized that tone, now. It was anger, yes, but something more. Protectiveness. Max was defending her. She had told Max about David, and his abuse, and this was her wanting to keep her safe, the same way Chloe wanted to keep Max safe.

“It’s too late, isn’t it? You just, you better be damn careful with her,” David said, and Chloe was not sure what he meant. “Don’t you wander off into the dark.”

And just like that he was gone, walking out to his car, and driving away, leaving them alone, without any more goddamn men in the house.

“So,” Joyce said, before anyone else spoke, “did you come back here last night, Chloe? I thought I heard you whispering stuff. Don’t think that you’re out of trouble yet. You and I still need to talk about all this.”

“For sure, will do, mom,” Chloe said with a grin, “but right now we’re busy. You got the stuff, Max?”

“Right here, Captain,” Max said, holding up the laptop, and all of Frank’s files. “All safe and sound.”

“Is that David’s laptop?” Joyce asked.

“Real busy, mom,” Chloe said, taking it all from Max. “Really busy. No time to talk. Max, go get that old board from the back yard, you know, the one we decorated together as kids.”

“This is not over, young woman,” Joyce shouted, as Chloe took the stairs two at a time, and slammed her door behind her.

She felt like laughing. She could not stop smiling. Rachel had cheated on her, Rachel was still missing, and her and Max needed to comb through all of this evidence to find something on David, and hopefully Nathan too. Future Max was still out there, in, well, the future, somewhere. Somewhen. And there were dead whales on the beach, and still the unexplained snow. But also David had finally been booted out of the house, and even if he was not gone completely, even if Joyce was still Joyce, and not completely on her side, things felt good at the moment.

“Got the board!” Max said, as she hauled it through the door. “Why did I go get this board again?”

“Because you can’t be solving mysteries and piecing together information without a big board to pin it all to,” Chloe grinned, as she laid all of their findings on her desk, on top of the other junk. “Obviously. We just need to get some string for it to be perfect. Go ahead and put it up against my closet.”

She turned around, and saw Max standing there, staring at her, the board already leaning against the wall. Around them was all the detritus of her life, but she still felt like there was another of those moments stretching between them. She wanted to kiss Max, right? In celebration? But she could not risk ruining their friendship, not after all that they had been through just in the past few days. And then suddenly Max was hugging her.

“Woah, thanks for the morning grope,” Chloe said, the joke slipping out of her mouth before she could censor herself. “What was that for?”

“For bashing back at the homophobe,” Max said, taking a step back. “And because I’m so happy to see you. I’m glad you’re here, and I’m glad I can be here with you.”

“Damn, girl, you sound high,” Chloe said, confused by the huge, and adorable grin on her face.

“Sorry, since we were up all night I’m a little spaced out,” Max said, sitting down on the edge of the bed.

“Yeah, me too. But hey, what do you say? Want to play some CSI: Arcadia Bay with me? Sort through all this crap?”

“Could use some coffee,” Max said, rubbing her face.

“Good thinking,” Chloe grinned, eager to get Max anything she wanted. “Nothing like staying up all night as an excuse to drink lots of coffee. By the way, you were right.”

“Right about what?”

“Right that rubbing David’s face in it would make me happy. I’m feeling better already, and fuck, you were hella badass standing up to him like that, down there, for me.”

“I just wanted to keep you safe, Chloe,” Max said, looking up at her.

“Apparently a trait you have in common with future you,” Chloe laughed, and then immediately regretted bringing her up. “Sorry, just, well, yeah, making jokes about serious things again, I guess. I feel protective about you too, and all that mushy shit.”

“Chloe et Max contra mundum,” Max grinned.

“Non nobis solum nati sumus,” Chloe replied, grinning back.

“Woah, where’d the Latin come from?” Max said, leaning back on her hands, further into Chloe’s bed.

“I went to Blackhell too!” Chloe said. “Everyone always forgets that. Also I may have looked up some Latin to impress you after you busted it out last time.”

“Well, consider me impressed. What’s it mean?”

“Good! And I honestly don’t remember, but you’re going to be even more impressed once I get you some coffee,” Chloe said, suddenly feeling uncomfortable warm. “I’m guessing your clothes are as sand filled and filthy as mine, so feel free to grab another fit in the closet, and change while I’m gone. Be right back!”

She turned, and bounded down the stairs, three at a bound, this time, pivoting suddenly, and turning into the kitchen.

“Jesus, Chloe,” Joyce said, as she leaned against the counter. “Could you be any louder?”

“Probably,” Chloe said, as she poured the already brewed, cooling coffee into two mugs. “Want me to try?”

“You’re in a damn good mood.”

“The heterosexual avenger just got kicked out, so yup, I’m in a great mood,” Chloe said, turning around, and locking eyes with Joyce.

“You know we’re still married, and trying to figure it, right Chloe?”

“Wish you wouldn’t,” Chloe shrugged, “but I’ll take the victories where I can.”

Joyce sighed, and looked away, before changing the subject.

“So you and Max?”

“What about us?”

“Are you, you know,” Joyce said, awkwardly shifting.

“Oh, fuck, mom, no,” Chloe said, sputtering in surprise. “She’s like, super, super fucking straight.”

“Did she tell you that?”

“She’s got a movie date with this nerdy dude tomorrow, and also, why the fuck am I talking about this with you? We’re hella done with this conversation.”

“I haven’t forgotten about what I heard outside my room last night, Chloe,” Joyce yelled after her, as she walked up the stairs, coffee in hand.

“I’m sure you haven’t,” Chloe muttered, as she backed through the door into her room, taking a sip of coffee. “Oh, shit, fuck, sorry.”

She nearly choked on her coffee, as she turned away quickly. Max was standing there, in basketball shorts, and her bra. It was stupid, Chloe knew, freaking out about it. She had realized that she was crushing on Max when they were both swimming, and wearing less clothes. They had slept in the same bed. But even so, having Max standing there, getting dressed, in her room, in the morning, was a lot. Especially when Chloe had not been expecting it.

“Sorry, pulling on a tank top,” Max apologized hurriedly.

“Yeah, yeah, it’s fine,” Chloe said, kicking the door closed, so fucking glad that the step-fuhrer was not here to police what girls were doing in her room, “just startled me. You decent now?”

“Yeppers, I’m good.”

Chloe turned around, and saw Max grinning back at her. She was standing there in a tank top, one of hers, with a skull splattered across it, and basketball shorts. Each of them were huge on her, and Chloe could see her bra easily. Despite herself she smiled back.

“You look different, bro.”

“Feel different, too,” Max smiled back. “My parents wouldn’t know what to make of me now.”

“Be impressed you’re stepping out of your comfort zone, probably.”

“Speaking of,” Max said, the grin vanishing, “how is Joyce?”

“She’ll be fine, with a little time away from the dick-in-chief,” Chloe said, handing one cup of coffee to Max.

“And what about you, then?” Max said, looking up at Chloe with her piercing, intense eyes.

“I’m fucking great,” Chloe said, perhaps with a little sarcasm creeping into her voice. “Are we gonna dig into these files and Frank’s shit?”

“Oh, right,” Max said, like she was coming back to reality, like she had been distracted by something, “while you were down there I got a message from Kate, in the clinic. I absolutely have to go see Kate Marsh right now. I want to find out how she’s doing.”

“Right,” Chloe nodded, glancing at all their findings, “you’re right. We should.”

“Are you alright, Chloe?” Max asked, the concern clear in her voice.

“Yeah, fine,” Chloe said vaguely. “Just thinking about all this evidence. And hoping there’s enough in here to find Rachel.”

“Yeah, me too. Does visiting Kate first bother you?”

“Max,” Chloe said, with a sigh, “Rachel still slept with Frank, and just ‘cause this last hour was great, and kicking David’s ass out of the house was hella rad, doesn’t mean I’ve forgotten that. Rachel can wait. Someone, probably that bitch Victoria, is going to go with Jefferson to San Francisco this weekend, and aside from your date with Warren we don’t have any other plans for the next few days, right?”

“It’s not a date,” Max said automatically. “But no, I don’t think they’re going to lift the suspension ‘til at least Monday, and I’d be an idiot to leave you.”

“Promise?” Chloe said, more out of habit than anything else.

“Promise.”

“Rad, so, like, Rachel can wait. Kate’s important to you, and, well, after I saw her last time she matters to me too. I think I’d like to say a few words to her. Tell her that I’m glad she’s alive or some mushy shit.”

“I’m sure she’d love that,” Max said, with a gorgeous smile.

“Yeah, yeah, the point is that Rachel’s waited six months, and it’s not like anyone else has gone missing. She can wait a little longer while we take care of some things. Also, I wonder if I can get my stitches out, yet.”

“Probably not yet,” Max said, with a giggle. “Although they might want to give you a bandage that isn’t so filthy.”

“Hey, that’s what happens when you go swimming, and camp out on a beach all night,” Chloe grinned. “Which reminds me, could you give me a second before we go? I’ve got sand all over me and I need to strip into something a bit more comfortable.”

“Oh, right, uh, of course,” Max said, suddenly looking uncomfortable, and in the moment before she left the room, Chloe almost imagined she was blushing.

But it was probably all just in her mind, she thought, shaking her head, as the door slid closed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A bit of a revenge fantasy, I'll admit, but still fun! And just like that, we are right about up to the point where, in the game, Max wakes up in her own timeline. Next up is Kate, and after that, well, who knows how things will keep diverging?
> 
> Enjoy!


	15. Wriggle Up Onto Dry Land

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chloe and Max meet up with Kate, talk about Victoria, Nathan and Warren.
> 
> CW for allusions date rape drugs and suicide.

Wriggle Up Onto Dry Land

“Play with matches if you think you need to play with matches. Seek out the hidden places where the fire burns hot and bright. Find where the heat's unbearable and stay there if you have to. Don't hurt anybody on your way up to the light, and stay alive, just stay alive.”

-From “Amy AKA Spent Gladiator 1,” by the Mountain Goats.

“Hospitals always freak me out,” Chloe said, as they stepped through the imposing double doors.

“Yeah, mental health stuff, like you said,” Max replied, as they walked down the hallway. “I hear you. Imagine how Kate feels? I’m so glad I get to see her again. I hope it’s not too weird for her.”

“No, she’ll be stoked to see you,” Chloe said, feebly trying to reassure her. “Who wouldn’t be?”

“This be it. I’m a little nervous,” Max continued, standing outside the door.

“Just go in there and be her friend,” Chloe said, taking a seat. “I’ll wait out here. ‘Cause, like, I was a total dick for blowing a fuse when you answered her call the other day. Good thing you ignored me. I had no idea what shit she was going through, and you saved her, like me. I’m sorry.”

“Thanks, Chloe,” Max said gently. “But don’t be sorry, we’re all on the same team.”

“Team Max! Let Kate know we’re going to string Nathan up by his balls, then.”

“Oh yes,” Max smiled, “but are you sure you don’t want to come in and actually get a chance to talk to her? I know seeing her the other day meant a lot to you. It affected you.”

“Yeah, but, like, she’s your friend,” Chloe said, as Max pushed open the door.

“Wait, who are you?” Max asked, frozen in the doorway

“Oh, she’s the sitter,” Kate said, looking up from her art, as Chloe herself stood up and looked in the doorway. “It’s Chloe, right?”

“Uhhh, yeah,” Chloe said, with a cough. “I’ll just be out here.”

“Come on, don’t be a stranger, come on in.” Kate said with a huge smile, as she walked up and wrapped her arms around Max. “Those clothes look good on you, Max, by the way. Trying something new.”

“Oh, Kate,” Max said, as Chloe glanced at the stranger sitting in the chair.

She was dressed in scrubs, and looked bored, glancing at her fingernails. Max and Kate were talking, as Chloe awkwardly hung back, when she finally placed where the stranger was from. She took a step closer, and whispered to her.

“You’re that nurse from the other day, right, when I got this bandage?”

“Yeah, you should probably take it off when you get home, especially if you haven’t been keeping it clean,” she replied evenly, not looking up.

“Who, well, why are you in here, again?”

“I also pick up overtime as a sitter.”

“Right. Right. What’s that?”

“This is a small town, miss,” the nurse answered evenly. “We don’t have near enough patients to have a dedicated psych unit, so whenever there are psych patients, patients who have been through something like she has, we can’t leave them alone with all the cords and ligature risks in here. So we need a sitter. Just ignore me.”

“I love your illustrations,” Max said, the word love drawing Chloe’s attention back to their discussion.

“They got kinda dark there, for a while,” Kate said, as she sat back down. “But I have an idea for a new children’s book about bullying. I was thinking of having some photographs in there too.”

“I hope that’s a subtle hint you’ll let me take the photographs for the book,” Max said.

“Oh, come on, Max,” Chloe said, on instinct. “Stop second guessing yourself, that wasn’t even subtle, and you’re really good.”

“She is good,” Kate said, beaming up at her.

“See?” Chloe said, nodding at Kate appreciatively, “she’s got some good taste, this girl. Also, sorry for barging in here like this.”

“Nonsense,” Kate said lightly, “do you have any idea how boring hospitals are? I don’t really like them.”

“Yeah, me neither,” Chloe said, pulling off her beanie and running her hand through her greasy hair. “How long you penned up in here?”

“Probably until Saturday. My family is coming out here tomorrow to visit, but the hospital wants to make sure I have a good discharge plan before I leave.”

“Maybe we can chill, tomorrow evening,” Chloe said with a shrug. “I’m gonna be bored out of my skull with this one off on her date.”

“A date?” Kate asked excitedly, looking between them. “A date with…”

“Warren,” Chloe jumped in.

“Oh,” Kate replied, a confusing expression running across her face. “Congrats, Max, I think”

“It’s not a date,” Max said with a heavy sigh. “You know what? Let’s change the topic. How is your family treating you?”

“Like they need to protect me forever,” Kate replied. “They’re so upset, and I know they feel guilty, even though they didn’t do anything.”

“At least your family feels guilty.”

“I was surprised how many students from Blackwell wrote me,” Kate continued, ignoring Chloe’s snark. “Daniel, Mr. Jefferson, even Victoria wrote me a very sweet note, and I believe she was being real.”

“Oh, come on she’s a, well,” Chloe said, catching herself, “she’s not a nice person.”

“She’s,” Kate began, looking out the window, “different, but I believe she can be better than she has been.”

“I’m glad you believe again,” Max said earnestly.

“I’m working on it, Max. I just pray I can get this drawing right.”

“Damn, wait, sorry, dang, girl,” Chloe said, leaning over the drawing Kate was working on, as Max did her normal nosy, poking around the room routine, “you sure can draw. When’d you learn?”

“Just, taught myself,” Kate said, as she smiled, “it was pretty boring out where I grew up, and I didn’t have a lot of friends.”

“Hey, me neither,” Chloe laughed, “we should’ve grown up together.”

“Didn’t you and Max grow up together?”

“Yeah, how did you know?”

“She talks about you all of the time,” Kate giggled, “especially during the past few days.”

“Oh, right, speak of the devil,” Chloe said, awkwardly changing the conversation as Max came back, and the nurse looked up absentmindedly. “Wait, you probably don’t like me saying that, sorry.”

“Max,” Kate said, looking up from her drawings, “I owe you so much, but I can tell you want to talk to me about something.”

“I saw Victoria’s letter. How does that make you feel?” Max tentatively, as she took her place standing beside Chloe, looking down at Kate, with the nurse behind them.

“Max, I know Victoria can be,” she said, pausing, like she was censoring herself, before continuing, “not nice. But I believe in forgiveness and redemption.”

“More than me, clearly” Chloe said, rolling her eyes. “Sorry, sorry, ignore me, I’m a pretty angry person and you two are a lot nicer than me.”

“Why do you think she acts so mean?” Kate continued.

“She’s insecure,” Max replied, after a pause, “if you’re comfortable with yourself you don’t need to act superior.”

“Victoria doesn’t look like she has much to be insecure about,” Kate said, and there was a strange, distant look on her face that Chloe thought she recognized.

“If anyone could make Victoria see the light it’d be Kate Marsh.”

“No, I think it will take more than that, Max.”

“Amen, sister,” Chloe agreed.

“We missed our tea session this week,” Kate said, the look disappearing, replaced with sadness.

“That was so not cool,” Max agreed, while rubbing her head. “We need to plan, like, a tea-shop tour of Portland.

“Oh, yes!” Kate said, before she glanced at Chloe, and back to Max. “And you could bring, uh, someone, along too. Warren, I guess?”

“Oh, god, no way Warren would like tea,” Chloe said, so loud the nurse looked up at her momentarily, “he’d all be like, oh, dudes, we should totes legit go to that comic book store over there and talk to the greasy owner about how fake all these modern fans are.”

“She doesn’t like Warren, I don’t think,” Max laughed, “but then again, I don’t think she likes a lot of people.”

“I like you well enough,” Chloe muttered, so low no one would be able to hear it.

“What do, what do you think of Warren?” Max continued, asking Kate, like she was looking for confirmation of something, Chloe did not know what.

“Oh, smart and silly. He’s got such a good heart, and he’s a cutie pie,” Kate said, with all the enthusiasm of talking about drywall, before moving on, like she was cautioning Max. “You know he likes you, right? Like, if you’re okay with that?”

“I’m going to the drive-in with him tomorrow, like Chloe said. I guess I don’t really know what it is?”

“It is a date!” Chloe said, automatically, feeling the old, familiar jealousy stab through her chest.

“It just seems weird to call it that,” Max said, hesitantly. “Especially with you, and the whales, and snow, and, well, everything. I don’t know.”

“No, you deserve a,” Kate began, before interrupting herself, like she was rethinking something, before she continued, “you deserve someone who will make you happy.”

“Kate Marsh, matchmaker,” Max said, her eye flicking to Chloe, just for a moment. “I’m glad someone is looking out for my love.”

“Even angels need angels,” Kate said, for some reason looking at Chloe.

“That’s a lot of talk about angels,” Chloe said, uncomfortable with the way they reminded her of Rachel. “Max, were you going to tell her about the you know what?”

“Oh, right, of course. We want you to know we really are working on holding Nathan accountable. I got his ass suspended, even if that’s just temporary, and we’re trying to dig up more dirt on him.”

“Nathan Prescott has to pay for what he did,” Kate agreed seriously.

“Yeah, fuck that dude and what he did to me and Rachel,” Chloe said, unable to censor herself, as she imagined him looking down at her, as she woke up, through a haze of drugs.

“What he did to you? Oh, I’m so sorry, Chloe, I didn’t know you went through it too,” Kate said, holding a hand up to her mouth.

“Yeah, well,” Chloe said, pulling her beanie back on, like that would keep her safe, “I at least got to knee him in the balls.”

“And Rachel, that poor girl who went missing, he was involved with her too? He has to pay.”

“Oh, don’t worry,” Chloe said bitterly, “we’ll get there. Even all the Prescott lawyers and bullshit won’t be enough to stop me.”

“So what is going on with him now?”

“The Vortex Club party got busted,” Max answered. “At least officially, but there are rumors they’re going to do it later, maybe sometime next week, off campus, and I’m sure he’ll show up there like nothing happened.”

“Okay, let me know if you need anything,” Kate said earnestly. “Pass codes, well wishes, anything.”

“Team Max,” Chloe said, with a smile. “Nathan won’t know what hit him when us three bad bitches roll up on him. Sorry, bad girls.”

“It’s okay,” Kate giggled. “But I know you both probably have things you need to be doing.”

“You don’t know how much it means to see you again,” Max said, emotion running through her voice.

“I do, Max,” Kate said, with a quality in her voice that would have made Chloe jealous if she was not already thinking of Kate as a friend of both her and Max, “that's why I love you. Thanks for taking care of my bunny. Tell Alice I’ll see her soon.”

“And see me soon too,” Chloe grinned. “I mean, if that’s alright.”

“I’d be delighted, Chloe.”

“Radical! You’re alright, Marsh. Smell ya later.”

They turned, to walk out of the room, but, almost as an afterthought Chloe turned around, and addressed the nurse.

“Hey, quick question, when can I get these stitches out of my face?”

“Next week if they’re healing well,” she said apathetically. “Although you should really take that bandage off and clean them.”

“Rad, thanks.”

She caught up with Max in the hallway, where, unexpectedly, she found herself throwing her arms around the shorter girl.

“Woah, you okay?” Max asked. “Normally I’m the one doing this to you.”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m good,” Chloe said, taking a step back and clearing her throat. “Just a lot of emotions seeing her there, in this fucking place, after seeing her on the roof. I’m glad we came to see her.”

“Thanks for coming with me.”

“Alright, yeah, yeah, of course,” Chloe said, suppressing the urge to dismiss it all as mushy shit.

“She’s still Kate Marsh,” Max said, as if to fill the silence. “Thank god.”

“Eh,” Chloe said with a shrug, “even if he’s real, or like, the Old Gods of Arcadia Bay are real, and, hey, time travel might be, so I’d believe anything this week, I’m not sure him, or her, or they are responsible for saving her or me. You are, Max.”

“That’s a lot of pressure, Chloe.”

“Yeah, well, it’s not like you have to do it alone, I’m right by your side. Now, what say you we head back to my place and do a little of that Mulder and Scully, dig through Frank and David’s shit and see if we can find any leads?”

“Sounds good, Chloe,” Max said, beaming up at Chloe, “sounds good.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Almost everything in this fic I have tried to keep plausibly canon compliant, given Max not remembering pulling the fire alarm, having no rewind powers, and the meddling of Future Max. But hey, I've worked in psych for six years, including in small towns, so this is one change I'm just going to make because it bothers me. A town the size of Arcadia Bay would in no way be big enough to have a dedicated psych unit. And on non-psych units someone in Kate's position would absolutely not be left alone. There one hundred percent would be a sitter, and the fact that in game she's just in there alone, in an apparently completely medical (as opposed to psych) hospital room has bugged me for a long time.
> 
> Also posting this about twenty-five minutes later than planned, because work went late. But even so! Enjoy.


	16. Chosen Family

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chloe and Max have a moment, and then dinner with Joyce.

Chosen Family

“The world is at least fifty percent terrible, and that’s a conservative estimate, though I keep this from my children. For every bird there is a stone thrown at a bird. For every loved child, a child broken, bagged, sunk in a lake.”

-Maggie Smith, “Good Bones.”

They were sitting on the edge of the bed, the board leaning against the closet door, with evidence from David’s files, and from Frank’s stash all pinned up neatly on it. Chloe felt emotions running through her chest, and she was not high, which was a new and slightly uncomfortable experience. The silence stretched between them, the lull in the conversation seeming to go on forever.

“Chloe, are you okay?” Max asked suddenly, shattering the quiet.

“Yeah, just thinking about Frank. It’s nice to have one less enemy in Arcadia Bay, at least, whatever else happened with him and Rachel. And also I didn’t have to pay my debt to him!”

“Do you think he’ll come back?”

“I doubt it, you, well, future you, at least, scared him pretty good.”

“Oh, lord,” Max said, shaking her head, “I still can’t believe she, me, is out there in the future.”

“Potential futures, I think she said.”

“But still, what could happen to me that would, like, turn me into a time traveling superhero?”

“I’m not sure she’s a hero, not exactly, but other than that, no clue,” Chloe said. “Even just thinking about it makes my head hurt. Even worse than all these fucking clues. Like, okay, we know a lot about Nathan from David’s surveillance. What his license plate was, shit like that. We know that Frank was dealing a lot of drugs to him before Kate, before Rachel disappeared, and before, well…”

“Chloe,” Max said again, resting her hand on the taller girls. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“I’m not numb, for one thing,” Chloe said, bitterly, pulling off her beanie and running her hand through her hair. “Which is kinda new for me.”

“I know I’m not always outgoing and cool like you,” Max said quietly, “but I can still tell when something’s tearing you up inside.”

“It’s like,” Chloe began, not knowing why she was speaking, “looking at all this laid out, knowing that Frank supplied the drugs that got Kate in trouble, pushed her up on that roof, and into that hospital, it’s been shit inside me every since we got back from visiting her.”

“Oh, Chloe,” Max said, laying a hand on her shoulder, “I didn’t know seeing her would be hard for you.”

“It’s not, it was chill, just, I could’ve been her? I probably got roofied with the same drugs Nathan slipped her, probably the same ones he dosed Rachel with before she disappeared. You know? Like shit, it’s such a fucking violation. I swear I am going to beat Nathan to a goddamn pulp,” she said, rubbing her face, before continuing more quietly. “And I think that’s probably what we’re going to have to do.”

“What do you mean?” Max asked hesitantly.

“We’ve got all this evidence, right? And step-frick’s surveillance info too. So if we could just get our hands on that little punk-ass bitch’s phone we could probably track his movements the night Kate got in trouble, and hopefully also the night Rachel disappeared. Maybe even when, well, when I,” she said, trailing off faintly.

“What he did to you is wrong, Chloe,” Max said carefully, her hand still lightly resting on Chloe’s shoulder.

“Yeah, no shit, Sherlock, I know that. Just every time I think about him getting his hands all over me, when I think about what he did to me,” she gulped, before taking a heavy breath, “it’s like it’s happening all over again. It’s fucking disgusting. Like, the night after it happened, before I met you again, before you fucking saved my ass and sanity, I spent two hours in the shower, getting it as hot as I could. It makes me fucking ill. Like I’m going to chuck my guts out.”

“Chloe, I don’t know what to say,” Max said, after a long pause.

“Don’t fucking say anything,” Chloe said, before suddenly lowering her head, and resting it on the shorter girl’s shoulder. “Just stick around and don’t leave me.”

She stayed there for a long, long moment, lost in her own thoughts. The evening sun was filling the room. Think like a man, the walls said, don’t trust everyone. Well screw you, past Chloe, present Chloe wanted to say. You could have trusted Max. And then the other girl was shifting, and Chloe looked up. The sunlight played across Max’s face. She was so, so kissable, in that moment.

“Aren’t you supposed to take that bandage off and clean your face?” Max said, breaking the spell.

“Ugh, alright, mom,” Chloe said, playfully shoving her, as she stood up. “Be right back. Don’t you run away and leave again, Max Caulfield.”

“Would never dream of it,” Max said, winking at her.

Joyce was just getting home, moving around downstairs, Chloe could hear. So she must have gone into work, even if she was late. Damn, fucking trooper, Chloe felt herself thinking, as she walked into the bathroom. She ran some water, washed her face, and slowly peeled the filthy bandage off, and then washed herself again. The cut didn’t look too bad, Chloe thought. A little red, a little swollen around the stitches, some dried blood. Hopefully chicks really did like scars, though.

“So, what do you think?” Chloe asked, stepping back into her room like she was stepping onto a stage.

“I’ve been texting some people,” Max said, her face buried in her phone, “and apparently Nathan’s been holed up in his room all day. I don’t think we’re going to be able to get his phone until he leaves. Maybe not until that stupid Vortex Club party actually happens. Also, Mr. Jefferson apparently did pick Victoria to go with him to San Francisco. They’re leaving tomorrow morning to fly down there.”

“No, dork,” Chloe said with a laugh, “what do you think of my face?”

“Oh, right,” Max said, putting her phone down and looking up with a smile. “I like it, it’s a pretty face.”

“Oh, god, Max,” Chloe said, “you idiot. The cut.”

“Oh! Right, it too,” Max said, her smile widening.

There was another moment between them, stretching out forever. Chloe stood in the doorway, and Max sat on her bed, leaning back onto her hands. Chloe wanted to cross the room, through the sunbeams, push her backward, straddle her, and kiss her.

“Chloe! Max!” Joyce’s voice suddenly came from downstairs, breaking the moment between them. “Are you two up there?”

“What do you want, Mom?” Chloe shouted back down.

“Dinner’s ready.”

“Huh, want some grub, Max?” Chloe asked, turning to her.

“Yeah, I could go for that,” the shorter girl said, standing up. “I’m pretty starving, actually.”

“Rad, let’s head on down.”

She led the other girl down the stairs, and into the dining room, where Joyce was waiting.

“Jesus, you’re both filthy,” Joyce said, as they sat down with her. “Is that sand in your hair?”

“Yeah, it’s been a minute since we showered, mom,” Chloe said, as she pulled a plate of french toast towards her. “Breakfast for dinner? You’re fucking awesome, mom.”

“You can’t sweet talk me that easily, Chloe.”

“It is delicious, though, Mrs. Price,” Max said, as she took a bite.

“You though, you might be able to sweet talk me, Max. What have you two rascals been up to? Finally working on getting your GED, Chloe?”

“I’m not smart enough for that,” Chloe said, through a big bite.

“Oh, who’s doubting themselves now,” Max said, elbowing her in the ribs. “She’s plenty smart enough.”

“Someone’s got a very high opinion of you, Chloe,” Joyce said, shooting her daughter a knowing, and incredibly annoying, look. “So, tell me about Seattle, Max? How was it? Were there any boys up there you liked? Or any girls?”

Chloe put her head in her hands, but Max seemed oblivious to the teasing, as she replied, a smile still on her face.

“No, I was a pretty quiet kid. Just missed Chloe, you know?”

“Oh, is that so. She missed you, Chloe.”

“Mom,” Chloe said, standing up. “Can I talk to you for a second in the hallway? Alone?”

“Everything okay?” Max asked, as Joyce stood up too.

“Yeah, yeah, be back in a sec,” Chloe said, patting her on the shoulder. “Keep on eating.”

“What is it, Chloe?” Joyce asked innocently, once they were down the hallway towards the front door.

“Oh, don’t act like you don’t know,” Chloe hissed under her breath. “Seriously, mom, stop trying to set us up, let me deal with this myself.”

Joyce sighed, before she replied.

“You’re right, Chloe. I’m sorry. I guess I’m just trying to be supportive, you know, of you coming out and all that.”

“Not the way, mom,” Chloe sighed. “Like, seriously, that is the least of my problems with you right now."

“That’s why I said sorry. And for everything else, too.”

“Well,” Chloe said, a bit louder, so Max could hear, “it’s not the end of it, but it’s a start. Thanks, Mom.”

“You alright?” Max asked, walking into the hall.

“All good,” Chloe lied, as Joyce winked again, and turned back into the kitchen.

“Good. Hey, Chloe, can you give me a ride back to Blackwell?”

“Wait, you’re going back?” Joyce asked. “You aren’t spending the night here with Chloe?”

“Oh god, mom,” Chloe muttered under her breath.

“No,” Max said, with a strange expression, as she glanced at Chloe. “We can’t do anything more tonight, and I’m hoping that I can start going back to classes next Monday, and I really, really need to call my parents about what’s going on. Plus, I need to take care of Alice. Unless…?”

She looked from Chloe, to Joyce, and back again. Her eyes seemed to be looking for something, but Chloe was not sure what.

“Yeah,” Chloe said, after an awkward moment, “I can give you a ride back. Of course. No problem.”

Joyce sighed, and Chloe glared at her. But nothing else happened as the two girls left, walking out to Chloe’s truck, and climbing inside. The truck coughed, and sputtered to life, loud in the nighttime quiet. The moon was full overhead, as they drove through the night, illuminating every single part of Arcadia Bay. It was beautiful, Chloe had to admit. She imagined the moon was like an eye, looking down at them. What would happen if there was a second one? Or it blinked at her?

“Chloe?” Max asked, over the static hum of the radio, as they neared Blackwell. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, just weird thoughts coming into my head, I guess,” Chloe said, looking over, and wondering at how beautiful she was.

“What about?”

“The moon, again, like the other day when I had that dream about the eclipse,” Chloe said, with a shrug. “Sometimes things like that just pop into my head. I don’t know if its my fucked up head, or Kate’s god, or, like, I don’t know, whatever old gods are lingering around this fucking town.”

“What else pops into your head?”

“Rachel, sometimes. I feel like she’s out there right now,” Chloe said, hesitantly. “Almost like we should be finding her, right now.”

“We will find her, Chloe, I promise,” Max said, as the truck came to a stop.

“Hella rad, brah,” Chloe said, forcing herself to smile. “Want to keep up the search tomorrow? Maybe try to get Nathan’s phone?”

“I don’t know, Chloe,” Max said, looking away. “I have to get ready for the marathon at the drive in, and I really need to do some homework.”

“This,” Chloe started, catching her breath, and forcing herself to continue, “this isn’t you bailing on me, right? Like, I know pinky promises and best friends forever, and all that, but I’m still me, and I know I am going to have to deal with its shit and insecurities resurfacing tomorrow when you aren’t around.”

“No, of course not, Chloe,” Max said, leaning forward to hug her, “we’ll hang out this weekend, I swear.”

“Good,” Chloe said, with a forced smiled, “because I swear if you ditch me for some nerd like Warren I’m never fucking forgiving you.”

“Never,” Max said, letting her go, and returning her smile.

“Alright, text me tomorrow? And, like, I don’t mean to sound like your mom, but text me tomorrow, and while I’m hanging with Kate. If Warren tries any funny business I swear I’ll tear his fucking balls off.”

“Hopefully no ball tearing will be in order,” Max said, as she opened the door. “But thank you, I will certainly go to you first, if I need any.”

“You better,” Chloe said, forcing herself to wave, and be friendly, as Max walked away from her, leaving her alone, as the moon continued its silent course overhead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Taking us up to the end of Thursday, and Episode 4. With many, many divergences, of course.
> 
> I was going to post this like, four hours ago, at midnight, since I'm up all night here getting ready for night shift, but instead went and cried in a park. Anyway, sorry for the weird posting time, and hope you enjoyed!


	17. Sure as the Turn in the Worlds

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As Warren and Max go on their date, Chloe visits Kate.
> 
> CW for mentions of homophobia.

Sure as the Turn in the Worlds

“Confused? At a loss for what to do? Wow, sounds like you’re human. Good luck!”

-Welcome to Night Vale

Chloe woke up late in the morning, just before noon, that Friday, after staying up equally late, restlessly getting high, and looking at porn. After she had showered. Joyce was right about one thing, at least, she had been filthy. She stayed in her bed a long time, past noon, thinking about nothing in particular, trying to stay numb, safely away from her anxieties and fears. It was a grey day, outside, rain drizzling down against the windows, as a storm blew in from the Pacific Ocean. She could do something, she knew. She should do something. She could do some more research into the Prescotts, or she could actually look into those GED classes. Or she could just lay there. She chose to lay there for a long time.

It was Max that finally got her out of bed, of course. She sent a selfie of herself in Wells’ office, along with a joking message about him having no clue of their would-be-theft. She was so ridiculously cute in that picture, Chloe thought, as she shifted and sat on the edge of her bed. Even if, back in her normal clothes, Max still had no fashion sense whatsoever. Chloe sent back a joke about snitches, and what would happen to them, and a little later Max replied that come Monday she could go back to class at Blackhell, with her precious teachers. By then Chloe was eating breakfast cereal.

“Keep me updated and let me know when Warren’s picking you up for tonight?” She texted.

“K will do mom.” Max replied.

The rain was still drizzling, in fits and bursts, and the wind was getting worse, outside the window, as Chloe finally got dressed. She was lost in her own thoughts, yet again. She remembered a saying she had heard somewhere, about how if you ever felt chills it was because someone was walking over your grave. And she thought about Future Max, too. She had said that she was one of many possible Max’s. If there were multiple possible Max’s out there, then were there many possible Chloe’s too? Had some of them already died? Was someone walking over their graves now? Where were those other Chloe’s buried? And why was she thinking any of this?

“What the fuck has this week even been?” Chloe muttered vaguely, under her breath, to herself.

“Warren’s here,” Max texted her later in the afternoon, along with a selfie of herself, with the wind blowing her brown hair all around her adorable, freckled face, “good thing the drive-in is further inland where this storm won’t be an issue. How do I look?”

“You look great! Warren doesn’t deserve someone as cute as you,” Chloe texted back, and it was not a joke, but Max only replied with an emoji.

Once Chloe had pulled on her jacket, shoved her beanie over her head, and was geared up, she headed out into the wind, and light rain, driving through the storm towards the clinic. She had to visit Kate, after all. She had made a promise. People were running out of the main doors, with their umbrellas turned inside out, and a few branches from nearby trees were down, as Chloe parked, and walked into the clinic, and down the long, lonely hallway to Kate’s hospital room.

“You again, huh?” Chloe asked the nurse as she pushed the door open.

“Just ignore me,” the nurse said with a sigh, not even bothering to look up from her seat, the same exact place as yesterday. “I’m just getting some overtime.”

“Hey, Kate,” Chloe said, suddenly feeling awkward, and unsure what to say, without Max with her.

“Chloe, so glad you came,” Kate smiled up at her from perch on the chair. “Is it, is it okay if I hug you?”

“Yeah, yeah, thanks for asking,” Chloe said, as Kate stood and wrapped her arms around the taller girl, and, after a moment, Chloe returned the favor.

The sitter looked down at her feet, still bored, and the wind whispered against the windows, the light grey and dimming outside. But the hug was nice, Chloe thought, as Kate let her go.

“Of course,” Kate said, tucking some hair behind her ear, as she sat back down onto the chair. “I’ve been doing a lot of reading about trauma in here, and I wanted to respect your boundaries. Do you want to sit on the bed?”

“Sure. So what’d you find about trauma?” Chloe asked, as she plopped herself up onto the side of the bed.

“Well, like, I was thinking. After Nathan, after what he did to us, wait, sorry, is it okay if I talk about this right now?”

“I mean,” Chloe began, after checking her phone, “Max isn’t messaging me, and it’s not like I have any friend other than you and her, so shoot. I can deal with it.”

“Well, like, Chloe,” Kate began shifting uncomfortably in her chair, as she put down the art supplies, “how have you felt after him?”

“Horrible,” Chloe said with a shrug, trying to make it sound like a joke, “but that’s not unusual for me.”

“After it happened I kept on trying to wash my hands,” Kate began, softly, and then more firmly, as she looked down into her lap. “I felt sick. I couldn’t sleep. I couldn’t eat. I read that it’s a pretty normal acute trauma response.”

“Shit, yeah,” Chloe said reluctantly. “I felt something like that too. Like I couldn’t stop trying to replay it all in my head. Still feel that way, I guess.”

“Yeah, me too. Which is why I’m trying to do something different,” Kate replied, gesturing to her art. “Chloe, do you have a therapist?”

“In Arcadia Bay? Hell no. Although I do have Prozac.”

“I think I’m going to try to find one when I move back with my family,” Kate said, looking out the window. “Maybe someone who can do appointments over the phone so I can keep going to them when I go back to Blackwell. Because I want to. I want to go back. I don’t want Nathan to win, Chloe.”

“You’re a stronger woman than me,” Chloe sighed, looking at her boots, “I just tried to blackmail him.”

“Sounds pretty brave to me,” Kate said, as the evening light continued to dim outside. “Badass, I think you’d say.”

“Hey, stepping outside your comfort zone and cussing! That’s badass too, Kate,” Chloe said, smiling for real.

“Nathan was involved with Rachel too, right?”

“We think so, yeah,” Chloe said, the good mood vanishing just as quickly as it had come.

“Were you and her together?” Kate asked suddenly.

Her eyes snapped around, away from the window, fixing themselves on Chloe. They were intense, even if she was tired. Chloe opened her mouth to answer, closed it again, glanced over to the nurse, who was inspecting her fingernails, and then opened her mouth again.

“I crushed on her, yeah. I, we, it’s complicated. I think I loved her. I don’t think she loved me. At least not in the same way. And whatever we were together, I think that it ended a long time ago.”

There was a beat, as if Kate was processing what she had been told, carefully sorting through it, and deliberately forming her reply.

“When did you know?”

“Know what?” Chloe asked, not following.

“That you liked girls.”

“Fuck, everyone keeps asking me about that this week. Not sure. A while ago, though. It was just always sort of there. Why, you’re not about to get, like, super religious on me, are you? ‘Cause no offense, but I’ve had enough of bigots this week.”

“Oh, no, no, no, not that,” Kate said hurriedly, “oh, I am so, so, sorry, Chloe. You don’t deserve that. And that was not why I was asking.”

“Oh,” Chloe said, recognition spreading across her face, “I see. Victoria is very pretty, isn’t she, Marsh?”

“She is,” Kate said, blushing bright red in the incandescent light.

“But seriously, you can do better than her. Hold on, someone will be there for you, make you feel better about yourself,” Chloe said with a chuckle, satisfied at being the more experienced person in the conversation.

“And Max is very pretty too.”

And just like that all the self-confidence and satisfaction that Chloe had felt a moment before vanished. Was she blushing? Fuck, she thought, she had better not be blushing. She looked away, glancing at the nurse, who now had her eyes closed. She breathed in, and out, like the internet said, counted to ten and back, and controlled herself, before answering.

“Yeah, and she’s also straight.”

“Are you sure about that?”

“She’s on a date with Warren right now!”

“Yeah, but have you asked her?” Kate pressed. “Because I haven’t known Max as long as you, but I don’t think she’s very sure of herself. She’s just a kid, like us, she could go in all these possible directions. She could be so many possible Max’s.”

“Yeah, no kidding,” Chloe muttered. “Doesn’t matter though, she’s probably making moves on the white knight himself right now.”

There was a lull in the conversation, before Kate spoke again, glancing out at the foul weather outside.

“Storm’s getting worse,” she announced, to no one in particular.

“We’ll pass through it soon enough,” Chloe replied, as she stood. “Do you have my number, Kate?”

“Yeah, Max gave it to me.”

“Good, well, if you want to talk while you’re with your family, or want to get advice on picking up chicks, or something, feel free to text. And once you’re back if you want to hang, just let me know. Max can take you to tea shops, but I can take you to a rave. You know, if you want.”

“Boundaries,” Kate said with a wink. “They’re a good thing. Speaking of which, before you go, is it okay if I hug you again?”

“Yeah,” Chloe said, after a moment. “Go for it.”

It was different than hugging Max. With Max, Chloe wanted to let go of all her anxieties, and doubt. She wanted Max to be her lighthouse, her beacon, guiding her home through life. Kate was not that. But she was warm, and Chloe held onto her, for just a moment, before they parted.

“Don’t be a stranger,” Kate said, smiling up at her.

“No way. Also, I don’t suppose Max has texted you?”

“No, not since she left with Warren.”

“Worth a shot, I guess. Thanks, Marsh. Take care of yourself.” Chloe said, turning to the door, before she turned back around and spoke to the nurse. “Hey, does this cut look like it’s getting infected to you?”

“I’m not a doctor, and you’ll have to come back next week,” she said, sounding incredibly tired. “Just make sure you keep it clean.”

“Right, thanks.”

The storm was finally letting up when Chloe left the clinic, crossing the debris-strewn parking lot to her truck. But evening had finally come, even if the clouds overhead were starting to break, and it was dark, and grey in Arcadia Bay. She checked her phone, hoping for a message. There was none, and she still had weed at home. She’d have to find a new dealer, she guessed. But for right now? Right now seemed like a good night to be numb, and not think about Max and Warren at the drive-in.

She was almost home, pulling into her driveway, and killing the engine, when her phone buzzed. And then buzzed again. And again. And again. She picked it up. There were suddenly dozens of messages, some from Joyce, talking about how the storm had knocked down a cell tower, and even one from David, along with other people hoping she was safe. But Chloe was not looking at any of them. She was looking at the messages she had missed from Max.

“Chloe? Can you come get me? No pressure, or anything, just not having fun.”

“Hey, Chloe, if you could pick me up it’d be great? Not a crisis, just some weird feels.”

“Let me know when you get this?”

“Is everything okay in Arcadia Bay? I tried some other people and no one’s answering.”

“Okay, hey, Chloe, please come get me?”

“Chloe, please? I’d really, really like to get out of here sooner rather than later. Please, Chloe?”

“Chloe?”

“Chloe?”

“Chloe!”

“Chloe, come get me, please.”

The last message had been sent three minutes before. Whatever infrastructure the storm had knocked out it must have just been repaired. Chloe cursed under her breath. Her truck was running on empty, she would have to syphon off someone’s gas, and even without that, it was nearly a thirty minute drive inland to the drive-in. But she could not say no. Already her heart was pounding in her ears, and her chest ached with anxiety. She flung her phone into the passenger seat, and pulled back out onto the street.

She was counting down the minutes, as she mapped out the route in her mind. She could do this. She had done it before. She had stolen gas before. She could do it again, especially for a cause this close to her heart. Twenty-minutes, she thought. She could do it in that long if the Arcadia Bay cops were as bad at their job as they normally were. Fuck you, Warren, Chloe thought, I am coming for you, Max. Hang on.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Annnnd! Just like that, the date is falling apart. But as for the specifics of how? That will have to wait for tomorrow. But at least Kate and Chloe got a chance to talk.
> 
> And also like that the first of three nightshifts is done for me, goodnight, everyone, and enjoy!


	18. Go Apeshit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chloe interrupts Max and Warren's date.
> 
> CW for interpersonal violence.

Go Apeshit

“One of the perks to looking the way I do is that I virtually never have to listen to someone like you suck your own dick out loud while telling yourself I am what you are swallowing.”

-Andrea Gibson, “To The Men Catcalling My Girlfriend While I Am Walking Beside Her.”

Chloe’s mouth still felt weird, as she pulled out of the parking lot, and back onto the road, but at least her truck was full, and no one had seen her. And it’s not like they’d actually miss the gas she took. Hopefully, she thought. Overhead the last light of the day had left the sky, and through the final ragged remnants of the storm, she could see the stars, and moon, just past full, sailing above. The wispy shreds of clouds, and the pine trees were silhouetted against the rest of the universe stretching out into its own dark, mysterious infinities..

She was doing seventy, easily, racing down the winding roads. If her truck could go eighty she would, but she would need to fix it a lot more of it to do that. She kept on thinking about Max, and Warren. Would he be as bad as Nathan? You could not trust white straight men, any of them. Would he be trying to kiss her? Worse? What the fuck was he doing to Max? Chloe wished she had a gun.

She pulled over on the side of the road, just outside the gate of the drive-in. Trees obscured the screen, and a high fence ran around it, but Chloe could see the flicker of its light through the pines. A tired girl was sitting in a little booth on the side of the entrance, messing with her phone. She did not even bother to look up as Chloe walked up.

“I need to get in there,” Chloe said, through the glass.

“Twelve bucks,” she said, absentmindedly.

“No, like,” Chloe said, sighing, and pulling her beanie down, still drying from the last of the storm over Arcadia Bay, “I’m not here to watch the movie. And I don’t think I even have twelve bucks.”

“It’s twelve bucks,” the girl repeated, still not looking up.

“Listen,” Chloe said, trying to channel Max, and sound calm, cool, and collected; persuasive even, “you seem like you’re a reasonable girl. Right now my best friend in the world and girl I am crushing on so hard is over there probably getting felt up by a creep. Can I please get in there?”

“Twelve bucks,” she repeated.

“Fine,” Chloe said, reaching into her pocket.

But before the girl in the booth could stop her, she turned, sprinted towards the gate, and vaulted over it. The girl did not react, and Chloe was safe inside. 

All the cars were parked in the gravel lot, and the screen was showing a movie full of people in bad prosthetics in complete silence, the speakers presumably hidden in each individual vehicle. Chloe did not know if that meant the marathon was far along, or just beginning, but she did not care about that. She scanned the cars, looking for Warren’s. She had seen it in Blackwell’s parking lot. What did it look like? It was blue, right?

“Chloe!” Max’s voice said.

There she was, stepping out of the passenger seat of a blue junker. Chloe dashed towards it, and reached it just as Warren got out of the driver’s side, a moment of the movie’s audio briefly reaching Chloe’s ears, as the door opened.

“Take your stinking paws off her, you son of a bitch,” Chloe said, her hand flying on its own.

“What the fuck?” Warren sputtered, as he reeled backwards.

“Chloe!” Max shouted again, as Chloe drew her hand back for another blow. “Stop!”

Chloe froze in place, as Warren stood back up, blood dripping from his nose.

“Stay back, fucker,” Chloe said, pointing an accusatory finger at him, before turning to Max. “Are you alright, Max, did he hurt you?”

“Chloe,” Max said, taking Chloe’s hands in hers, “you punched him in the face. Why?”

“I got all those texts from you,” Chloe said, as all her anxiety and fear turned into confusion. “I thought the worst. Did he do anything?”

“I mean,” Max began, softly, like her mind was somewhere else, but Warren interrupted her.

“You punched me in the face!” He said. “Are we fighting? Can I fight you? Is it okay to fight girls?”

“We all know I punched you in the face, Warren!” Chloe said, not even bothering to turn around and look at him. “Try to keep up. And also, no, we’re not fighting, and yes, it is okay to fight girls, but no, in this case in particular you can’t fight me. Max, what’s going on? Did he feel you up? Make a move? Try to get you drunk? Worse?"

“Chloe!” Max suddenly yelled, interrupting her angry rant. “It was a date, okay? It was a date, and I wasn’t comfortable with it, alright? That was all! He didn’t assault me, or try anything more than a shoulder hug.”

“Wait, you weren’t comfortable?” Warren asked, taking a step back. “I thought it was going well. I canceled on Brooke for this, the movies were good, and well, I thought that we were, you know, going in a good direction.”

“Shut up, Warren!” Chloe shouted, still staring at Max. “So why all the texts for me to come get you?”

“Because I didn’t want to leave with him!” Max retaliated angrily, her voice finally raising. “I thought he was going to try to kiss me afterwards, and I wanted to hang with you! Why didn’t you just text me when you got here? I would’ve met you outside!”

“I was going to try to kiss you,” Warren muttered. “Was that wrong? Also, ouch, my nose hurts too.”

“Shut up Warren!” Max shouted. “And why did you run up here and punch Warren, Chloe? You’re so violent!”

“When I’m protecting you!” Chloe said, taking a step closer, standing only inches away from Max’s face. “Because I was worried!”

“About Warren? He’s a nerd!”

“I am?” Warren ask hopelessly

“Shut up, Warren,” Chloe shouted. “Because he’s a man!”

“Hey, you two’ve gotta be quiet,” the girl from the gate interrupted, still on her phone as she walked up to them. “I know, like, it’s a drive in and all, but cars aren’t soundproof and y’all are really loud.”

“Wait, why are we yelling at each other?” Max asked suddenly, in her normal voice, as she faced Chloe. “I asked you to come out here, and you did.”

“I mean,” Chloe said quietly, almost chuckling, “I did punch Warren. But hell, I’m just glad you can yell, Max. Wanna get out of here?”

“Hell yeah,” she said, “let’s go.”

“Wait, what?” Warren asked pathetically. “You’re leaving me Max? I thought we had this whole date planned out?”

“Listen, Warren,” Max said, turning to him, “you’re nice, but also, I probably should never have agreed to this. The movie’s are great, and it’s great seeing them with you, but that’s all I wanted to do. I just wanted to watch some good flicks, and I think you wanted a whole lot more.”

“I don’t care what y’all do,” the drive-in girl said, as Warren frowned, and nodded, before turning away, “but you can’t keep waiting out here.”

“Shall we, M’lady?” Chloe said, motioning towards the gate.

“With pleasure,” Max said, her smile lit up by the soft flicker of the movie. “Enjoy the movies, Warren.”

They walked away, leaving him and the drive-in girl standing next to his blue beater. The gate was a momentary obstacle, but Chloe gave Max a boost, and soon they were on the other side, and then in the pick-up. It coughed, once, as it started, and then groaned as Chloe put it in reverse, and pulled back out onto the road.

She opened her mouth to speak, but when she glanced over at Max, looking out at the dark pine trees, so beautiful in her passenger seat, she realized she did not know what to say. So she turned on the radio, which murmured faintly, and found some country station in the static, for a moment at least, before it warbled off into pop. She drove slowly, winding through the hills, back to Arcadia Bay, as the last of the clouds cleared overhead, and the moon came out. She did not want to get home, and did not know what would happen when she did.

“Wait, wasn’t your truck running on empty, Chloe?” Max asked suddenly, breaking the silence.

“Oh, yeah,” Chloe said with a shrug. “I stole some gas. But don’t worry, the Cadillac was in the driveway of what looked like some rich prick’s house.”

“And if you were in such a rush,” Max said, turning away from the window, “why did it take you a long time to reach me?”

“There was a little storm in Arcadia Bay while you were gone,” Chloe said, coming to a stop and waiting for a doe to cross the road, “it knocked out cell service for a bit. I came as soon as I could.”

“I hope you drive safely?”

“Uh, I drove.”

“Chloe,” Max said, lightly hitting her on the shoulder, “don’t do that. I don’t know what I’d do if you got hurt, and, lord forgive me, if you died I don’t know what I’d become. I’d certainly never forgive you.”

“Don’t worry,” Chloe said, flashing her a brief grin, before she started driving again, “I’m planning on living forever.”

“Don’t make everything a joke, Chloe. This is serious. Why were you speeding like that?”

“Because I was worried about you. I got all those messages at once, and, like, my brain went to a dark place,” Chloe said, her eyes planted on the road.

“To Nathan?”

“To Nathan,” yes, she replied with a shrug, “but also to the boy toys, and more. Mistakes I’ve made. I really, really wish I could take back a few dozen kisses and makeout sesh’s. My first kiss is always going to be a forgettable waste with a dude with acne. Not as magical as you were wishing, I know.”

There was a pause, a long one, before Max answered, slowly and hesitantly.

“After Arcadia Bay, after William, after I turned down the therapy, my parents kinda gave up on me, I think. I never really had a talk with them about boys. Or girls.”

“Oh, well, uhh, when two people love each other very much they give each other a very special hug,” Chloe began.

“This is not funny, Chloe!” Max interrupted her sharply. “Do not make a joke about this.”

“Yeah, you’re right. I’m sorry.”

There was another pause, before Max continued, her voice choked, like she was about to start crying.

“I think that was why I texted you. In that car, with Warren, I just was not comfortable with what he was doing. I needed out of there.”

Chloe froze, as Max sniffed. She did not know how to deal with this mushy shit. But she had to, somehow. Max deserved that help. She was amazing, had saved Chloe’s life, and needed a friend, and no one else was available to be there for her just then.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Chloe asked, finally finding her voice.

She glanced over at Max, who sat huddled on her passenger seat, small and sad, lost in her own thoughts, but not actively crying.

“Not right now, Chloe.” Max said, with a heavy sigh, wiping her nose. “Maybe tomorrow.”

“You got it Max,” Chloe said, after a moment, before following it up with the first words that came to her mind. “Tomorrow will be the best day ever.”

“What makes you say that?” Max asked, looking over at her.

“Well, it’s a Saturday, so, if you’re cool with it, we can go back to my place. And, I’m not sure,” Chloe said, thinking fast. “I’ll do something. Think of something. Not sure yet what exactly.”

“Not sure?”

“No, but it’ll be great,” Chloe said, before remembering her talk with Kate. “You know, if you’re okay with it. Boundaries, after all.”

“Well, I can ask Dana to feed Alice. And after that horrible of a date? Yeah, I think I could use a day with my best friend,” Max replied, and Chloe did not have to look to know she was smiling.

“So it really was a date? Like I kept saying?”

“Not now, Chloe.”

“Yeah, yeah, fine, I’m just glad you’re back with me Max. And glad that we got to enforce some boundaries with Warren.”

“With your fists,” Max said with a quiet, adorable laugh.

“With my fists!”

“You know you’re probably going to have to apologize to him, right?”

“You too for bailing on him,” Chloe countered.

“Crap, I will have to,” Max said, and then paused, before continuing, “but we can each deal with that tomorrow.”

“It’ll be the best day ever.”

“It better be, after you’re building it up like this.”

The truck chugged up a hill, and then around a tight bend, into view of Arcadia Bay. The last of the storm had long cleared, and the stars stretched above the softly glowing town. In the distance the lighthouse shone in the darkness, a beacon of safety, guiding ships home in the night. It still stood, at the end of the strange week. Arcadia Bay was still there. Despite herself, Chloe found herself reaching out for Max’s hand as she looked at it, looking for something to ground her in a dark and strange world.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, a little physical violence never hurt anyone. Except for, you know, the people it hurt. You know what, never mind, hopefully it was enjoyable :)
> 
> I've got a treat for y'all tomorrow!


	19. The Best Day Ever

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chloe and Max set out to have the best day ever.

The Best Day Ever

“You and me we’re like little machines, we run around the room and mess up sheets. No one can put me to sleep, but you.”

-“Argh...I’m a Pirate,” by Zolof The Rock & Roll Destroyer

Chloe woke up early, before the other girl, sleeping soundly on the other side of her bed. She looked across the sheets at Max, and smiled. She was so, so goddamn pretty. Her mouth was open, and some spit was falling down onto the other pillow. Her hair was a mess, and her freckles were fucking adorable. She must have been exhausted after last night, with their escape from Warren and the movies.

Chloe remembered when they were kids growing up, the sleepovers they had had together. The long days before those sleepovers, spent playing anything they wanted to. Talking about other girls, talking about pirates, and death, and everything and nothing. They were good times, and even just remembering them, as she watched Max, made Chloe smile. And just like that, as easy as the sunlight only now creeping into the room, Chloe knew what she was going to do with the long Saturday that stretched ahead of them. This would be a good day. Good enough to forget the nerd-creep, and Nathan, and all the shit that had happened this week.

She pushed herself out of bed carefully, and slowly. Max shifted, in her sleep, her light snore stopping for a moment, but she did not wake up, as she rolled over onto her other side. Chloe picked her way over her clothes, and out the door. She glanced back, at Max, for just a moment, seeing her lie there, in her underwear, on her bed. She froze, shook her head, and walked out. Today was about Max, not herself and her crush.

It was Joyce’s weekend to work, but she had left a note behind on the coffee pot, which Chloe read as the coffee was brewing.

“Just so you know, David is coming over tomorrow around dinner time, if you want to talk to him.”

She crumbled it up, her knuckles so tight around it they turned white, before she tossed it into the trash, and tried to do the internet breathing thing. It helped a little, but not much. Maybe she needed to practice it more, but right now was not the time. Today was going to be a good day for Max, after a week of hell, and some straight dude creeping her out. Today would be fun, and even David could not stop that.

She had just started the eggs, and was frying the bacon when she heard a light, and familiar footfall on the bottom of the stairs.

“Chloe?”

“Hey, Max,” Chloe replied, wheeling around.

She stood there, still in just a t-shirt, and her underwear, the clothes she had fallen asleep in last night, when they got home, tired from Warren. She was rubbing her eyes sleepily, and yawning at the same time.

“Is that bacon I smell?”

“Yeah, it is, grab a seat, Pete.” Chloe said, making a stabbing motion towards the chair. “Joyce ain’t here to limit our quantities.”

“To what do I owe the pleasure?” Max asked, as she sat, and the bacon sizzled.

“Yesterday was shit, and today’s gonna be good. Remember what I said? Also, OJ or apple?”

“OJ,” Max replied, and even though her back was turned Chloe could hear the smile in her voice. “And I do, I think you said that this would be the best day. So what’s the plan then, Cap’n?”

“You ever read Peter Pan?” Chloe asked, as she got the plates ready.

“No, should I?”

“Not really,” Chloe shrugged, and she carried the plates over to the table, and sat down on the chair across from Max. “This is just our last night in the nursery. We’re going to do all the stupid shit we did as kids, and have fun, and forget about all the shit both of us have been through.”

“Like Warren, and Nathan?”

“We’re forgetting about it!” Chloe said. “Grub’s up, dig in.”

They practically tore through the food, suddenly ravished by hunger, as if making up for not eating enough in the past week.

“I can do the dishes,” Max said, as Chloe leaned back and burped.

“Dishes?” Chloe asked incredulously. “Max, this is us getting one last day as kids. Did we ever do dishes when we were kids?”

“If I remember correctly most of the time your parents would tell us to make sure we washed the dishes before they got home,” Max replied with a smile on her face.

“Yeah, which was why I loved your place and the paper plates,” Chloe smiled back. “Point is, we never, ever washed the dishes.”

“Because we were too busy on our wine tasting sessions and cuddling up in pillow forts. Is that the plan again?” Max said, her grin getting wider.

“Later, maybe,” Chloe said, winking before she could stop herself. “But right now, as cute as you are, I think we should get dressed. I’ve got a place I want to go.”

“Oh, where to?”

“It’s a surprise,” Chloe said, as she stood, holding her hands behind her back. “And you know how surprises are.”

“No, not really,” Max replied, as she too stood.

“Best when they’re surprises!” Chloe said with a wild gesture. “Now go get that cute scrawny ass in gear and throw on something from upstairs!”

“What about you? Are you getting dressed?”

“Yeah, yeah, I will, just first I have another surprise for you. Go on! Git!”

“Alright, Captain Bluehair,” Max said, saluting.

“Oh, like, Captain Bluebeard, but, cause of the hair, right,” Chloe said, with a chuckle. “I like that. Probably would make a pun like that myself. And if I could grow a beard I absolutely would dye it blue.”

“It’d look good on you,” Max said, her hand on her hip.

“Less talking, more changing, go!”

As soon as Max was out of sight, Chloe turned, and dashed into the garage. All of David’s crap was still there, even if his car was gone. He’d cleaned out so many of their old things when he moved in, emptying the attic, and the garage, throwing away precious things, things left from William, and Max, and later Rachel too. He had wanted the house to look like one of his military bases, but she had fought him on one thing, refusing to let him ditch it. And there it was. She grabbed it, shoved it on her head, and ran back out, just as Max was coming down the stairs.

Chloe opened her mouth to speak, probably to say something piratey. But her mouth just stayed open, as Max walked down, once again in one of her tank tops, and her shorts. She had seen that much skin before, but still. Fuck.

“Do I look okay?” Max said, finally, spinning around.

“You look great,” Chloe said, finally remembering how her mouth work, “did you find like, the shortest shorts I own?”

“I didn’t want to be swimming in them!” Max said, grinning, as she punched Chloe in the arm. “Like last time I wore your clothes they were so big and baggy. Also, is that what I think it is?”

“Yup, yarr,” Chloe said, taking the hat off, “old pirate hat. Hung unto it all these years. Thought it’d be more of a surprise, honestly.”

“Hey, don’t look so sad,” Max said, taking a step forward. “It is cute on you, and no way I’d forget that pirate hat, Cap’n.”

“Still is kinda tight. Hang on one second and give me a bit to go change before we head out?”

“Gladly.”

Chloe got dressed as fast as she could, and ran back down the stairs. At her insistence they left, walking down the street, as the sun passed high overhead, and the sounds of kids playing wafted over the neighborhood.

“Do you think they know we were ever the rules of this town?” Chloe asked no one in particular.

“Probably not. Are you sure you don’t want to take your truck?”

“Caulfield,” Chloe said, pulling her beanie down as much as she could, “we aren’t working on solving mysteries, taking photos, understanding time travel, or beating up Nathan fucking Prescott today. You do get relaxing, right?”

“Yeah, it’s just been a minute since I actually did any,” Max said.

“Speaking of which, I guess it’s been a minute since you were here, right?” Chloe said, gesturing behind her.

They were down the road. When they were kids it had seemed so far to walk. This was the edge of their world, almost. Beyond this playground came the woods, where, for a long time, Chloe had convinced Max Bigfoot was lurking, to eat her. But the playground seemed smaller, now, as adults, Chloe thought, as she looked back at it. Kids were still playing on the heavily rusted monkey bars, and the noisy swings, but it seemed less than she remembered.

“Awww, Chloe,” Max said, taking her hand, “do you remember how we used to have a rivalry with the kids who played down here?”

“They were little pieces of shit,” Chloe said, lightly punching her in the arm, “and dastardly pirates who challenged my rule. Feel like playing?”

“Not really,” Max said, smiling.

“Didn’t think so, Bigfoot hunt, then?”

“Is this just an excuse to go for a hike, Chloe?”

“Nature is full of good things! Let’s go.”

They did not find any sign of Bigfoot as they hiked through the woods. Chloe had not been out this way in a long, long time. She had missed it, she realized, as she walked ahead of Max. Why had she waited until now, until her attempt at making the best possible day ever, to return?

She knew the answer, of course. Her dad used to take her and Max out this way. After his death, after saying farewell to Max, she had not had the heart to do it anymore. She wanted to be around real people, not the fakers at Blackhell. But everything fell apart, even with her precious scholarship, and she had stopped doing the old things she liked. She had numbed herself. But in doing so she had missed out on so, so much. Could she live again? Go to school? College even, like she had once dreamed? Was that life even possible? Out here in the woods with Max she found herself believing all kinds of bullshit.

They came back a different way, with a lot of pictures of does, and butterflies, and squirrels, and crows flying overhead, and one cool rock that Chloe had found, and insisted on shoving into her pocket. It was late in the afternoon when they emerged from the woods, walking along the side of the highway, parallel to the beach. They were both laughing, and smiling, smells of woods and mist.

“God, I can’t believe you got me out into the woods like that all day,” Max laughed. “I am going to be so sore tomorrow.”

“Gone soft up in Seattle, Max! Gotta whip you into shape if we’re gonna have a place for you on my ship!” Chloe replied with a wink.

“You aren’t going to drop that, are you, Bluebeard?”

“Not today, Max, speaking of which,” Chloe said, running ahead and standing in front of the glowing front of the Sav-Mart, “want to do some piracy?”

“Oh lord, you actually mean it?” Max asked, still smiling.

“It being shoplifting? Yeah, of course, remember how we always used to talk about it? I’ve done it plenty of times, and it’ll be even easier with two people.”

“But what if we get caught?”

“We won’t!” Chloe said, trying her broadest smile, as she felt higher than she had in a long time. “Remember, I’m the one who always gets you into trouble, but I always get you out again too. Here, I’ll make you a deal, if you grab something, candy bars, I don’t care, chips. Whatever, no matter how small, then I’ll buy you pizza when we get home.”

“You asshole,” Max said, but she was grinning.

“Does that mean you can’t say no to a face like mine? Even if it’s a bit cut up right now?” Chloe said.

“Well, you are my Captain. Lead the way.”

“Radical, bro. I’ll provide the distraction, slip something into your pockets, or up your tank top, and then head back and find me,” Chloe said, leading the way through the double doors before suddenly yelling. “Hey! Fuckface! You here?”

“Ma’am,” the acne-ridden teenager with the mop said, as Max slipped by, unnoticed by everyone, “is there something I can help with?”

“Where the fuck is Mae?” Chloe said, shouting to no one in particular. “I know that skank-ass bitch broke my furnace, and I’m here to teach her a lesson. Is she working right now, or do I need to come back later ‘cause she’s a goddamn coward?”

“Miss,” the teen said hopelessly, “we don’t have a Mae that works here.”

“Oh, I see how it is,” Chloe said, her mock anger easy to fake, “you think that I’ll fall for a line like that? Well tell her to meet me out back with a bat and a knife if she wants to pull shit like that in my town!”

“Chloe,” Max said, shooting her a look, “I think it’s time we should go.”

“Yes, thank you, please,” the teen said, appreciatively.

“You’re lucky my friend’s here to hold me back!” Chloe said, as they back out the doors. “I’m fucking rabid without her.”

“Rabid with me too,” Max whispered, as they walked out, along the road.

“Hey! I’m a good bad influence on you. And you’re a good good influence on me, you know that? Chloe and Max forever. How was my act?” Chloe said, still riding the high.

“Convincing. Anger comes easily to you?”

“Yes, have you noticed? Anyway, what did you get?” Chloe said eagerly.

“Just some chips,” Max said, pulling two bags out from under the loose-fitting tank top. “Not much.”

“Still something, Max!” Chloe said, practically shouting, as they walked back into town. “You’re already on your road to badassery! Has this not been a fucking great day?”

“It has been a fun day,” Max admitted. “But I don’t think it’s over yet. Did you have plans for the rest of the day, Captain?”

“Pizza, then, in a real blast from the past, I am going to haul some records up to the attic. You won’t even recognize it, with step-heel having tossed all our old shit out, the asshole.”

“It’ll be pretty close, and confined up there.”

“Yeah, I guess. Worried about getting all hot and bothered up there in enclosed spaces with me, Caulfield?” Chloe said, the words slipping out in the glorious mood, and immediately regretted.

“And what if I am?”

Chloe turned on her heel, and looked at Max. She was standing there. What was the term she’d use for this time? Golden hour? She looked good in this light. She looked good in any light, but especially good in this one. But despite it playing off her soft face, and the way she pushed her brown hair out of her face, and despite the flutter in Chloe’s chest, the smile on Max’s face was still open, and innocent.

Right?

***

“Can you turn it off?” Max said, suddenly, as she half stood in the cramped attic, moving away from the record player.

“I mean, it’s the last song, but not feeling White Crosses? I think I have some of her earlier stuff, probably Searching For A Former Clarity in here somewhere,” Chloe said, suddenly cutting off the punk song.

“No, it’s not that,” Max, looking at her, with her intense eyes, and then looking away, her face uncomfortably close. “It’s just very small in here, and, well.”

She trailed off, and Chloe jumped in, concern suddenly leaping into her throat.

“Are you okay Max? You know you can talk to me about this stuff, right?”

“The small space is making me think of Warren, and his car,” Max said, barely above a whisper. “Can we go to the roof, like we dared each other to do when we were kids?”

“Shit, Max, I have been a good bad influence on you,” Chloe said, already moving towards the exit. “Your word is my command, no disagreement from your Captain here.”

“Don’t joke about it, Chloe. Not everything has to be a joke.”

“Right, sorry.”

They climbed down out of the attic, carefully trying to avoid waking up Joyce, and into Chloe’s room. The window slid open, and they climbed out, one after the other. The first step was the lip of the roof under it, which they had jumped off of, down onto the driveway only a week before, walking to the lighthouse. It already felt like years away to Chloe. From there it was a quick climb to the summit of the house, where they sat, side by side.

The stars arched overhead. Earth was messed up, Chloe knew. Earth was fucked, but those stars were still burning, out there. She had loved science, she thought, bitterly, for a moment. She knew these things. The stars were forever beyond humanity’s ability to fuck over, but they still shined for everyone. It was a misconception that the stars were dead, burned out long before, with their light still in transit. Most visible stars were only a few hundred light years from Earth, and they would keep burning, keep on living, long after Chloe, Max, and everyone in Arcadia Bay was gone.

Max sighed, and as she looked up at them, Chloe wondered what the night sky looked like from her perspective. What would it look like to an artist? Would she be thinking about constellations? Would the sight of those stars make her think that the shadow of Nathan, and David, and everyone else, was only a small and passing thing, and that there was light and high beauty forever beyond its reach? And what would Chloe herself look like, to Max, right now, under the moon and stars.

“My parents didn’t shelter me,” Max said, without warning, or context, breaking the silence with her soft, clear voice.

“Cool?” Chloe asked, turning and facing her. “I didn’t think that they did. Why did I need to know that?”

“Because it won’t be fair to them if you hear what I’m about to say without knowing that,” Max said, her voice barely above a whisper, as she looked up at the stars.

“What are you about to say, Max?”

“I’m about to talk about Warren, and last night.”

“Shit, you don’t have to do that,” Chloe said hurriedly. “You know, like Kate said, boundaries.”

“No, I don’t have to say it,” Max agreed, her face bathed in moonlight, impassive, and distant, “but I want to. I don’t want to have those boundaries with you, Chloe, where I can’t tell you things. You told me so much that was hard this past week, about Nathan, and David, and Rachel, you deserve to know.”

“Know what, Max?” Chloe asked, after a long pause.

“My parents didn’t shelter me, but all the same, Seattle was not good for me, I don’t think. Or maybe I wasn’t right for Seattle. Or the people in it. After William, after you, there wasn’t really anyone I was close to, or got along with. I don’t make friends easily, I think it’s just the way my brain works, and without boyfriends, or, well, whatever, I think my parents didn’t feel the need to push me, or teach me anything, or ask me questions. I know we joked about that magical first kiss but there is so, so much I don’t know.”

“Max, if this is about the birds and the bees you’ve come to the hella wrong place.”

“Don’t joke, Chloe.”

“Right, sorry.”

“So I don’t know what any of this is like,” Max said with a heavy sigh. “It’s not like anyone tells you what it’s like to fall in love with someone, or like them. No one ever tells you how that’s different from being their friend. I don’t think I knew. And then when Warren asked me to go on the date with him and, well, he was fine, and he stood up to Nathan, and he was smart, right? I liked him.”

“Max, are you okay?” Chloe asked, resting her hand on Max’s shoulder.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Max sniffed. “I could have said no to him. I should have said no. But I figured I would try, you know? Everyone always talked about me and the boys I hung around, or their stupid boyfriends, and their celebrity crushes, and I thought maybe I could finally understand them. Maybe for once I could do something normal.”

“You are normal Max, remember?” Chloe said, her hand travelling to the other shoulder. “You aren’t like those pricks in Seattle, or Blackwell. That’s why I like you.”

“But all the same, I never understood all those other girls,” Max continued. “Aside from you my best friend is Kate, and she isn’t talking about dating boys all the time, probably because she’s so religious.”

“Right, probably,” Chloe said, stopping herself from making a joke.

“So I thought maybe I could have made it work. But then, when I was alone with him, I knew he wanted to kiss me, maybe more, and just, even the idea of it made me want to choke. Chloe I am so, so sorry about Nathan.”

“Yeah, well,” Chloe said, her voice a little courser than cool, “we’re talking about your shit now, Caulfiend, not mine.”

“Just, Chloe,” Max said, leaning her head against Chloe’s shoulder, “I knew I could never kiss him. And I panicked, and thought of you.”

They sat there for a long time, looking down on Arcadia Bay, and up at the stars. Chloe Price was not an idiot. People forgot that she had gone to Blackwell. She might have been a bit oblivious, she admitted to herself, but she was not able to ignore the question that stretched out between her and Max, yawning and impossibly vast. She was outwardly cool, trying to comfort her friend, but inside she felt the worst and most dangerous feeling of all. The feeling that was as much removed as possible from either numbness or anger. She felt hope, and she wanted to ask the question.

“Why couldn’t you kiss him, Max?” She asked, when the urge finally became overwhelming.

“Because I thought of you.”

“Why?” Chloe asked again, the words slipping between her teeth as she tried to bite down on them.

Something changed between them. It was no longer a void there, between their bodies, but a current, electric and sharp. Chloe remembered the moment in her bedroom, just downstairs, a few days before. That bright and dangerous moment she had wanted to kiss Max. She thought of it as the girl beside her lifted her head off her shoulder, and slowly and deliberately turned, and looked into her eyes.

“Why do you think?” Max said, her voice as soft as starlight, as the moonlight practically shone from her freckles.

“Oh, jeez, no clue,” Chloe forced herself to giggle, suddenly nervous for no reason.

“Boundaries, right?” Max asked, her eyes clear, and warm, as she took Chloe’s hands in hers. “Boundaries are good. So is it alright if I ask you something?”

“Oh, you know, depends what!” Chloe babbled, the words sounding nonsensical to her even as she said them.

“Chloe Price, I dare you to kiss me.”

She was so beautiful. That was all Chloe’s conscious mind could process, as her body moved, as if on its own. Her hair was like the sky, she thought, as her hands cupped under her chin, and behind her head. Her eyes were so deep, they were like the ocean, she thought, even as those eyes fluttered closed. Her freckles were like constellations, Chloe thought, as she felt herself closing her own eyes, and her head moving forward.

And her lips were so soft.

“Wowzers,” Max said, like she was saying a prayer, as they parted.

And just like that the spell between them vanished, as did the anxious fear in Chloe. She felt herself laughing, almost to the point of tears, as she threw her arms around the smaller girl, holding her tight.

“Dear fuck, you are hella dorky, Max,” Chloe laughed, still holding onto her, like she was the one solid thing in the world.

“Uh, wow, uh, shit, you’re hardcore, Chloe,” Max said faintly, like she was trying to find better words.

Chloe let her go, and drew back, their hands together, on their laps. The roof was cold, and hard beneath them, and the stars were distant, but Chloe did not care. She was looking at Max, and Max was looking back at her. Her mouth hung open for a second, as if frozen in surprise, before she smiled.

“How was that for a first kiss, Caulfield?” Chloe said, feeling like laughing.

“I could go for a second,” Max said, and even in the moonlight Chloe could tell how brightly she was blushing.

“Then kiss me, Caulfield,” Chloe said, suddenly brave, “I dare you to kiss me. Double dare you, triple dare you.”

She moved quickly, her kiss cutting off Chloe’s words, as their lips touched, briefly, and sweetly, before Chloe pulled back, on instinct, and saw Max grinning.

“That shut you up, Price.”

“Yeah, well, just catching my breath,” Chloe said, trying to act cool. “You know that nothing shuts me up for long.”

“Holy shit,” Max said, her eyes still locked on Chloe’s face, “I just kissed my best friend.”

“I did too,” Chloe replied, trying to collect herself, “do we, like, need to talk about this, Max?”

“I don’t know, Chloe,” Max said, finally looking away, up at the stars again. “My parents didn’t shelter me but, this is, this is new.”

“Shit, dude,” Chloe said, anxiety spiking through her chest, “did I fuck up and cross a boundary? I am so goddamn sorry.”

“No, no, nothing like that,” Max said, reaching out and grabbing her hand like she would die without it, “you were perfect. You remember how I was talking about wanting to take things back, do things over?”

“Yes,” Chloe whispered.

“I wouldn’t take that back,” Max said. “Never. I wouldn’t take back one second of today.”

“Yeah, you better not,” Chloe said, squeezing her hand. “So what now?”

“Now we stay up here, and enjoy the last moments of the best day ever.”

Chloe followed Max’s gaze, and looked up at the stars, alive with brilliant light. Between them though, in the vast empty gulfs of space, was still darkness, spiraling out into the universe’s empty infinities. The rest of the world, the rest of the universe, the rest of time, and her own life was still out there. Rachel was still out there, and Nathan was still out there. There was so much that scared her, and so much she did not understand. But she knew that as she held Max’s hand that hand felt like her lighthouse. As Max curled up, close beside her, their bodies pressing together on the roof, Chloe knew that she was her beacon, guiding her home to safety in a strange and chaotic life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! A treat, like I said! An extra long chapter that I made by deciding to edit two chapters together. That's the treat, right? Nothing else?
> 
> Jk, of course.
> 
> Woot! Our girls are being less of a couple of oblivious idiots. Enjoy y'all!
> 
> (Also this was my last nightshift for a little bit, so when I'm posting the chapters might shift about seven or eight hours earlier.)


	20. What God Doesn't Give To You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Max and Chloe wake up, and have a little bit of a tough conversation.

What God Doesn’t Give To You

“Don’t let them break you. Don’t let them tell you who you are. Doesn’t matter where you come from, you’ll always have a floor to sleep on.”

-Against Me! “Bamboo Bones.”

Chloe dreamt of William, in a field, looking down at her. She dreamt of Rachel, in the junkyard, with her and Max. She dreamt of herds of deer running all around her, as crows circled high overhead. She dreamt of a woman with a shaved head in a grey hoodie, and her and Max in an apartment together, when they were older, wearing masks for some reason.

“Hey,” a soft voice said, breaking through the meaningless dreams.

Chloe’s eyes fluttered open, stiff, and caked with gunk, to find Max looking back at her. Her nose was small, her eyes were deep, her brown hair was a shaggy mess on her head, and her freckles were so, so beautiful. For a moment, as she looked across the sheets at her Chloe was unsure if her room was just filled with light, or if she just saw it that way because Max was that beautiful. She felt nothing but contentment as she remembered last night, the roof, climbing down it, and talking together about everything and nothing until they had fallen asleep together, side by side.

“Morning,” Chloe murmured, smiling sleepily. “Fancy seeing you here, Max.”

“Fancy seeing you,” Max said, her smile widening, “Captain Bluebeard.”

“Ugh, Max, not today,” Chloe groaned, not sure why she was reacting negatively to such a simply, small comment.

“What is it? Are you hung over from the wine tasting?”

“No, not like that, that was before the attic, and we barely had enough to even get tipsy, let alone anything else. That was just a yesterday thing,” Chloe said, hating how harsh her voice sounded in her ears.

“What else was a yesterday thing?” Max said, and Chloe knew that she had hurt her.

She breathed in, and breathed out, and then counted up, and back down from ten, like the internet had said. She knew she would snap at random people, and be angry for no reason. But Max deserved better, so she tried to control her emotions before she replied.

“Yesterday was perfect, Max,” she said, forcing herself to look into her eyes. “I wouldn’t change a thing. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to lash out, I’m just really fucking good at being angry, and thinking about yesterday, like, it makes me angry. Not because anything was wrong. but because it was too good.”

“I don’t understand, Chloe,” Max said, a hurt look on her face.

“You came storming back into my life only a week ago, Max,” Chloe said with a heavy sigh, as the words fell out of her without thought. “And this week has been hell, with David, and Kate, and almost dying and whatever the fuck is going on with time travel. And it’s not even over yet. We still need to get Nathan’s phone, and put all this together.”

“What does this have to do with last night, Chloe?” Max said softly. “What does this have to do with us?”

Chloe sighed, and tried to put her emotions into words, as they all jumbled together in her chest.

“I’m not good at mushy shit, Max. I’m really fucking good at anger, or just getting high and zoning out. That I can do. But, like, the rest of it? Hope? That’s really scary. William left me, Joyce let me down, Rachel left me, you were gone for five years, and my brain’s all fucked up inside. So like, before you sit there looking cute asking me for a label, or talking about what those kisses last night meant, or asking what this makes us, or saying something we’ll both regret, please just let me deal with my shit? ‘Cause even right now part of me is afraid you’re going to leave me again.”

“Chloe, why would I ever leave you?” Max asked, her voice rough.

“You already left me once, and, like, I know you didn’t have a choice,” Chloe said, feeling the emotions rising out of her chest, and into her throat, trying to strangle her, “but that doesn’t mean I don’t feel it. And I think that deep down I think I don’t deserve it, right? I’m just a piece of shit, white trash dykey stoner queer kid from Shittown U.S.A. I didn’t deserve William, or Rachel. I didn’t deserve you back then, and maybe I don’t deserve you now. Maybe I didn’t fucking deserve to have you black out and save me in that bathroom. Maybe the universe would be better off without me.”

“Don’t even say that,” Max said gently, lifting her chin with her hand. “Look at me, Chloe. You deserve to be alive. You deserve good things. And the universe is better with you in it. I’ve already told you that, right?”

“Yeah, you have,” Chloe said, clearing her throat, her eyes somehow still dry, “but it doesn’t mean my shit brain is going to magically start believing it any time soon. Maybe I’ll always have my fucking wires crossed up in there.”

“You need a therapist, brah,” Max said, breaking into a cheesy grin.

“Oh, look at who’s talking,” Chloe said, smiling despite herself. “Miss can’t make any friends or focus on anything that isn’t photography up in Seattle.”

“Ouch, burned” Max chuckled.

“I mean, for real, no jokes, thank you, Max,” Chloe said, sighing again. “I appreciate you. Just, like, be patient with me, I guess I’m saying? Not every night is going to be like last night.”

“Understood. Can we still, like cuddle?”

“Yeah sure, why not,” Chloe said with a shrug. “Turn around, Caulfield.”

“Wait, why am I turning around?”

“Because I’m going to be the big spoon.”

“Says who?” Max asked with wildly exaggerated outrage.

“Says the fact that I’ve been taller than you since I was ten years old, you dork,” Chloe said, grinning at her.

“So? I bet I can still take you! I beat up Frank after all,” Max said, propping herself up onto her elbow.

“Future you beat up Frank,” Chloe insisted, content in the warm glow of Max’s smile. “Probably because she’s like, from dystopia where the computers have risen up and it’s up to future Jesus to save humanity. Or maybe she is just was from the timeline where you did kiss Warren.”

“You jerk,” Max said, as she sat up, but she still kept smiling.

“Oh? What are you going to do about it, Caulfield? Take me? You couldn’t out wrestle a fly!”

Without warning Max stood, leaping up onto the bed, like she was finally joining Chloe in a dance. But before Chloe could react, she was leaping back down, her legs landing on either side of the taller woman, their hips pressed together, as she grabbed each of Chloe’s wrists, pinning her down against the mattress.

“Gotcha, jock,” Max said, her voice almost sybillant through her smile.

“Oh, no,” Chloe said, pantomiming a struggle beneath her, “what will I do with this little otter pinning me down?”

Their struggle froze suddenly, as they made eye-contact, and for one long second Chloe was acutely aware of every hair on Max’s head, falling down around her face, framing her so perfectly. She was aware of their hands pressed against each other, and their hips so close. She felt the heat bloom inside her, sudden and sharp, the ache, and the longing and desire she had not felt in a long time.

And in one motion Max bent down and kissed her. Their lips pressed against each other, hot and desperate. Chloe felt herself melting into those lips, hungry for them, as her mouth opened, and she felt Max’s tongue against her own, before, suddenly, the smaller girl reeled backwards, almost falling off the bed as she scrambled away from Chloe.

“Shit, shit,” Max muttered, holding her hand over her mouth, “you said to keep it a yesterday thing and I didn’t. I crossed a boundary and dear lord, Chloe, I am so, so sorry, please don’t be mad?”

“Hey, dude,” Chloe said hurriedly, as she sat up, “it’s alright, okay? Fucking breathe a bit.”

“Chloe are you mad at me?” Max asked, hurt, and worry and confusion all mixed up in her voice.

“Max, if I wanted to I can take you, in all seriousness, I really could.” Chloe said, running her hand through her hair. “If I didn’t want to kiss you, then you would not have kissed me.”

“But you said you weren’t sure? That you were afraid of being abandoned, and that it was all really quick. Right?”

“Hey, Max, look at me,” Chloe said calmly, until Max finally locked eyes with her. “It’s okay. I didn’t say no, alright? I just said, well, we’ve got all the time in the world, right? With you going back to Blackhell classes and Mark Jefferson and all that tomorrow. And what am I going to do, leave? I can barely even get enough gas to get down to the Two Whales, and that pizza last night was not cheap. Also don’t worry about it. Point is I’m not leaving, until I get my GED, at least, and that’ll take awhile. So like, let’s just take it slow, okay?”

“Yeah,” Max said, her breathing getting a little more even and regular, as she sat there, a few feet from Chloe. “Alright.”

“Relax, Caulfiend,” Chloe said, as she scooted over to the side of the bed, looking for her weed, “we’ll figure it out together.”

“Okay, Chloe,” Max agreed, as she slid to the other side of the bed, and picked up her phone. “Wait, holy shit.”

“What is it, Max?” Chloe asked, turning back around, her hand frozen halfway to her lighter.

“It’s Kate. She’s back with her family but she’s texting me stuff she’s heard is happening at Blackwell. The Vortex Club Party is back on.”

“Shit,” Chloe said, fear and anger all returning to her chest with a vengeance. “Those goddamn assholes. Fucking hate those shit preps.”

“Chloe,” Max said, worry running through her voice, “Kate had all the things that happened to her happen at a Vortex Club party. Rachel disappeared after one. What if someone gets hurt at this one?”

“I know, Max,” Chloe said, trying hard not to sound angry. “I fucking know, okay? Does Kate know anything else?”

“Mark Jefferson and Victoria got back from their trip, so she’ll probably be there. Rumor is that they’re having it outside, up by the lighthouse.”

“Unoriginal as far as parties go,” Chloe said, rolling her eyes, “I guess even Wells couldn’t have all that drinking on school property. Not unless people legitimately though the world was going to end.”

“Wait, Chloe,” Max said urgently. “I just go a new text from Kate. She heard that Nathan just left his room, heading out to get stuff ready by the lighthouse. And she knows the code to his door.”

“You’re a goddamn angel, Kate Marsh,” Chloe said, as she bounded to her feet. “Come on, come on, move your ass, Caulfield. Get dressed and get going.”

“What are we doing?” Max asked, looking at up her with her eyes wide.

“Short term? We’re going to Blackhell and busting into all of Nathan’s shit. Longer term? We are fucking going to shut down him, the Vortex Club, that party, and goddamn find Rachel. And be hella badass while we’re doing it. Now let’s fucking go!”

Chloe was busy. She felt the adrenaline, and anxiety all running through her, as she threw on the first clean-ish clothes she could find in the mess that was her room. But even so, with her back turned to her, carefully avoiding looking, she knew that Max was changing. And even with everything else on her mind, even as she thought about Rachel, and the Vortex Club, and Nathan fucking Prescott, even with her own words about taking things slow still fresh in her mind, the fact that Max Caulfield was changing in her room was incredibly distracting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, sorry, did you think it would be that easy? :P
> 
> And hey! Plot happening again! Much excite!


	21. Contrast

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Max and Chloe storm into Nathan's room.
> 
> CW for in game themes, and allusion to date rape drugs.

Contrast

“But in the stillness of the moment it takes for a polaroid picture to capture our faces forever, and the world has turned a touch on its axis, and the only thing certain is that everything changes.”

-“Polaroid Picture,” by Frank Turner

The last vestiges of mist were evaporating from Blackwell’s campus, as Chloe and Max walked up to the dormitories. The sun was high above them, and the sky was clear. Squirrels chattered noisily in the trees, and a crow was cawing nearby. Chloe tried to take it all in. It was nature, after all, right? And that was a better thing to think about than dreading what they might find in Nathan’s room. No one else was outside on the quiet Sunday morning, except for Mark Jefferson.

“Hey, Max,” he said, stopping to speak to them. “How’re you doing?”

“Oh, hi Mr. Jefferson. I’m okay. And this is my,” Max began, looking at the taller girl, and back, like she was trying to find the right word to settle on, before she continued, “friend, Chloe.”

“Yo,” Chloe replied, trying not to read into that.

“Chloe, why isn’t someone as cool as you going to Blackwell?” The bearded hipster asked, crossing his arms.

“I was way too cool for this school. It’s a long story, in actual files here.”

“I can imagine.” He said, with a small, disarming chuckle. “How was this weekend while I was gone, Max?”

“It was good to see Kate again,” Max said, hesitantly, like she was returning to her normal, nervous self, “and some other stuff happened. Had a really, really great day yesterday, though.”

“I’m glad to hear,” Jefferson said, as Chloe smiled at the memory of yesterday, and the roof. “I’m sorry you didn’t enter your photo. You would have fit right in at all the galleries. I understand you can’t force an artist to work, but just get in the habit of putting your work out there.”

“Thanks, Mr. Jefferson.”

“He’s not wrong,” Chloe said, as she looked at Max. “You second-guess everything you do.”

“Someone’s perceptive,” Jefferson agreed. “Well, Blackwell duty calls, but, before I go, I hear there might be some sort of party tonight. Now, you didn’t hear this from me, but alcohol and big cliffs are not a great combination. Just be careful out there.”

“Don’t worry,” Chloe said, crossing her arms, and feeling proud of herself. “I’d be Max’s date to any party, and I’d keep her safe.”

“Good for you,” he said, looking between them with a small, knowing look. “Be seeing you.”

“Yes, you will,” Chloe said, and then continued in a lower voice when he was walking away, “he seems pretty cool after all, for a straight guy at least. I can see why Victoria has such a massive hard on for him.”

“Gross! You are out of control,” Max said, hitting her shoulder.

“You’re just jealous because Mark Jefferson thinks I’m cool,” Chloe teased.

“I am so ignoring you.”

“Oh, is that what you were doing last night?” Chloe asked, raising an eyebrow. “And also this morning.”

“Ugh, you suck,” Max said, but she was still smiling, as they walked into the dorm. “Now let’s get into Blackwell ninja mode.”

“So we’re sure Nathan’s at the lighthouse?” Chloe said, as they entered the guys’ hallway, on the first floor, easily distinguished from the girls’ dorms by the smell.

“Yeah, Kate is texting me now,” Max said, looking at her phone. “His room number is one-eleven.”

“So I guess we don’t need a lookout, then,” Chloe said, as they walked slowly into the building, like they were entering enemy territory.

“No, we should be good. Aside from all the graffiti.”

“Hey, don’t dis graffiti,” Chloe said as, side by side, they walked around the corner. “This place is super lame. Figures that Blackhell wouldn’t have co-ed dorms.”

“Yeah, like I’d want Nathan next door,” Max snorted.

“Yeah,” the taller girl replied, immediately regretting her sarcastic admiration of the guys and their graffiti, as she remembered how horrible literally everything else about them was, “you’re right.”

They each froze in front of Nathan’s door, side by side. Almost subconsciously, Chloe held out her hand for Max’s, remembering the little perv standing over her, an expensive camera in his hand. Bile and anger rose up inside her, but then, before it could choke her, Max took her hand, and squeezed. The internet’s breathing and counting shit might have been fine enough, Chloe thought, but it was good that Max was beside her, to ground her in the moment, not lost in the past.

“Locked,” Max said, jiggling the door with her other hand, “figures. Wait, let me use the fire extinguisher.”

“Woah, Max,” Chloe said, as Max dropped her hand. “You’re sure with that? Not too long ago you were really concerned about breaking and entering. Wouldn’t even set off that pipe bomb outside Wells’ office ‘cause you wouldn’t be unable to undo the damage.”

“Yeah, but,” Max said, holding the heavy object awkwardly, “that was Wells. This is Nathan. He hurt you, Chloe, so, like, yeah. I can do this. Because he doesn’t deserve any better, and I want to keep you safe.”

“I have been a good bad influence on you,” Chloe muttered, as Max broke the lock with the heavy metal cylinder.

“You have indeed. Let’s go.”

This was the second time that Chloe had been in this room, and already she felt the skin on the back of her neck pricking and crawling, and fear and anxiety stabbing through her chest. She had been lost in a drugged haze the last time she was here, but she still recognized it, from its dim gloom to the creepy-ass fetish photos on the walls, and the broken lamp. She had been at the mercy of yet another man in this room, and even the thought of it made her sick. What the fuck had Nathan done to her, while she was in here? She had been vulnerable, and she had not chosen to be, and that little fucker would pay for what he had done.

“Alright, let’s try to find something useful,” Chloe said, clearing her throat, and trying to force herself to sound like she could keep it together. “Could you, uh, look over there on the floor and couch? Bad memories of this floor, you know.”

“Of course,” Max said as she bent down. “There’s some sort of scratch marks down here.”

Chloe zoned out, as Max poked around. Or rather, she tried to zone out, to ignore everything around her. But the mental space was hard to find. Fuck, why hadn’t she waked and baked this morning? She pulled open some of Nathan’s drawers, absentmindedly looking for something incriminating, as Max moved the couch behind her.

“What’s this?” she muttered, as she picked up a photo, wrapped with a piece of note-paper.

“Jackpot,” Max said excitedly. “Chloe, I found something over here taped to the back of the couch.”

“Oh shit.”

Chloe felt her legs go weak, falling out from under her as she opened the note, her note, the one she had written to Nathan, trying to get money, and saw the picture inside it. She was aware that she was sitting on the floor, pulling her knees up into her chest, but it all felt distant. She should have been panicking, right? But instead all the anxiety and fear turned into a void inside her chest, threatening to swallow her whole. She was nothing but pain, and hurt, shaped like a human.

“Chloe, what is it?” Max said softly, as she knelt down beside her.

“It’s me, Max,” Chloe said, as the tears started to fall.

But it was not her. Or it was, rather. She knew herself, her hair, the clothes she had been wearing, and all that. But looking at that photo felt like looking at a twin. Her face was blank, devoid of any awareness, or emotion, preserved forever in the image. She was vulnerable there, and she had not chosen it. Nathan had done that to her, and taken a picture of it, to save it forever. It was like she was being drugged all over again. Like he had power over her once again. It felt like she was looking at a stranger, but she knew that the girl in the photo was her, had been her, and that was what hurt, clawing its way up out of her chest and into her throat. She felt like she was screaming, and no sound was coming from her mouth.

“Chloe, Chloe,” Max said, frozen beside her, “you’re having a panic attack, what should I do?”

“Max,” Chloe sobbed, pulling her in towards her, collapsing into her chest like it was the only safe thing in the world.

“Oh, okay,” Max said awkwardly, before wrapping her arms around Chloe. “It’s alright. I’ve got you.”

“Max,” Chloe said, between gasps, “he did this to me. That little fucking fucker did this to me.”

“I know, Chloe,” Max said, barely above a whisper, “but I’m with you now. You’re safe, and he is never going to do that again. No one will. We won’t let him or anyone else. Shh, shhh, it’s okay. You’re okay. I’m here with you.”

They stayed there for what felt like forever, but what was probably only a few minutes. Chloe pulled Max into her, softly punching her chest from time to time, until the sobs slowed, and her breathing became more under control. The sharp ache, the nothingness inside her that seemed to choke her faded, replaced by a dull ache, as she sniffed, and her tears eventually stopped.

“I’m fucking sorry, Max,” Chloe said, finally, still holding onto her.

“You don’t have to apologize for anything, Chloe,” Max said, and Chloe recognized her tone as worried, and protective. “Nathan is a bastard, and he’s going to pay for what he did to you. We are going to go home and put together all this info and make him pay. By tomorrow morning he’s going to be in jail. You did nothing wrong.”

“Fuck,” Chloe said, as she let go of Max, pushing her gently away from her. “You’re right, you’re right. What did you find?”

“A phone and some other stuff,” Max said, looking at Chloe with her deep, concerned eyes.

“Good job, Max,” Chloe said, her voice rough, as she stood up, suddenly feeling awkward and self-conscious that she had cried like that. “We’ve got you by the balls now, motherfucker. We’re coming for you, Nathan.”

“Are you okay, Chloe?” Max asked.

“Yeah, yeah, fuck, I’m fine, Max. I just have fucking panic attacks from time to time, like after this, or after I nearly got shot in a bathroom. My brain’s shit, remember?”

“I don’t think you have to have a mental illness to be touched by what happened to you, Chloe, you’re not made of stone, as much as you might want to be.”

“You got that much fucking right I’d like to be,” Chloe said, wiping her nose on her sleeve.

“I know, but you aren’t, and I’m here for you. It doesn’t have to be like that.”

“Cool, thanks Max, but, like, that’s just fucking how I am. I break down like that from time to time. It’s part of being,” she said trying to settle on a word, before she continued, “my friend, I guess.”

“And it is something I can deal with,” Max replied, as she took a step forward, taking Chloe’s hand in hers.

Chloe nearly let her anger dictate her response, but she caught herself just in time. She was mad, yes, even furious. But Nathan was the target of her rage. It was not Max, and she wanted to do better, to not accidentally target Max in her outbursts. She breathed in, and out, tried to focus on the feeling of the other woman’s hand in her own, and tried to ignore everything else, as she finally replied.

“Yeah, I know. Thank you, seriously. You’re amazing, Max. And I mean that.”

“So what now, Chloe?” Max said softly, as she gave her hand a warm squeeze. “I’ll follow you anywhere. Your call.”

“Now we take all this shit back to my room and pin Nathan’s balls to the wall, hopefully before that fucking party tonight,” Chloe said, forcing herself to grin.

“Do you feel good enough to do that?”

“I’ll feel better after that little bitch gets what’s coming to him. Come on, Max.”

“Alright, but Chloe?” Max asked, as Chloe turned towards the door. “Remember that I’m with you today. You aren’t alone in dealing with Nathan or anything else anymore. You aren’t alone in the dark.”

“I know, Max,” Chloe said over her shoulder, as she stopped in the doorway, slowly tearing apart the photo. “Whatever the fuck is out there, dark fucking infinities, weird gods, time travel, shit-ass Prescotts, stick with me?”

“Yeah, of course.”

“Good, now let’s go find this dirt on Nathan.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NGL, I'm still salty that in-game there is so little exploration of Chloe and the picture of her taken by Nathan. Tough chapter, but thanks for reading!


	22. Retrocausality

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chloe and Max track down a creepy barn.

Retrocausality

“We are each of us alone, to be sure. What can you do but hold your hand out in the dark?”

-Ursula Le Guin

“...somebody named Harry Aaron Prescott,” Chloe said, as the property record of the barn Nathan had taken Kate to after the party popped up on her screen.

“I’m shocked,” Max deadpanned, as she leaned over Chloe, sitting at her desk. “Should we call the police?”

“Fuck that,” Chloe spat thinking of all the incompetent, pathetic and corrupt shit the Arcadia Bay pigs had done, “you know the police here are, like, Nathan’s private security, right?”

“That’s so messed up.”

“As you’ve noticed,” Chloe replied, as she turned away from her laptop and towards the cute girl looking down at her, “this whole town is messed up. We can’t trust anybody except for each other, so we have to go out to that farmhouse by ourselves.”

“I was afraid you’d say that,” Max said, taking a step backward, and gently shaking her head. “There has to be someone out there we can trust.”

“Who? Warren and his nerd-ass clinginess? That hipster professor Jefferson? David when he gets here tonight trying to patch things up with Joyce? Kate went and left town with her family. Frank got scared off by future you. Victoria is going to be at the lighthouse, and so is Nathan. We’ll be fine,” Chloe said, trying to play it off as a joke, like it wasn’t serious at all, as she stood up. “Come on, Max. I feel like we’re this close to finding Rachel. We have to find her, Max.”

“Chloe, this isn’t a joke,” Max said, taking a step forward. “Please take this seriously. We don’t get any do overs, and you’ve already nearly died two or three times this week. I don’t know who I’d be if I ever lost you.”

“Well, there is one person we might be able to trust,” Chloe said, avoiding eye-contact. “But you’re not going to like hearing it.”

“Who, Chloe?”

“Future you,” Chloe whispered, pulling her beanie further down over her head nervously.

“You’re right,” Max said softly, “I don’t like hearing that. But even without that, it doesn’t matter because we don’t know how or why she can come to the past. Her past, our present. Or when she can. It, she, is not something predictable. We can’t just summon her like this is a video game.”

“Well,” Chloe said, wishing she could just for once force herself to shut up, and stop talking, “she does tend to come out when I’m in danger, like with Frank, and the train, and Nathan.”

“So what?” Max suddenly snapped her voice uncharacteristically angry. “We go down the train tracks and let you stand in front of them until she appears? Sorry, sorry, I didn’t mean to snap like that.”

She sighed, looked down, and rubbed the bridge of her nose. Guilt ran through Chloe’s chest, as she spoke.

“You’re right, I’m sorry, Max. I like being alive too much to risk my life just getting future you to show up.”

“You better like being alive,” Max replied, looking back up at her. “Listen, it will be fine. We go alone, we take things slowly and cautiously, and at the very first sign of trouble we get out of there, alright?”

“Yes sir,” Chloe said, with a fake salute. “Now come on, let’s blow this fucking banana stand.”

The address was out of town, heading inland, into the country. The truck rumbled across pothole filled roads, that gave way to gravel, and finally gave way to dirt underneath them. The radio warbled distant punk rock music, but Chloe was not listening to it, as they passed no trespassing signs, going further and further into ever-more remote farmland. She was thinking about Rachel. She was probably dead, right? Dead or gone for good, but, could she be dead? Was there any way she could still be alive at their destination in the Dark Room, like Nathan had scrawled over, and over again. What the fuck had happened to her? The same thing that had happened to Kate? What had almost happened to Chloe herself? She felt like she was lost, every question raising the spectre of further questions she hated to contemplate. But then she looked across at Max, sitting in her passenger seat, staring out the window, and she felt a little better.

“Alright,” Max said, as the truck rolled to a stop in front of the creepy barn that must have been their destination, “remember, no risks.”

“Will do, mom,” Chloe said, still trying to look more confident than she felt as they walked up to the barn.

“Woah, check this out,” Max said, as she bent down, “fresh tire tracks.”

“Dude, somebody was just here,” Chloe said, as she crouched beside her.

“Then we need to get into that barn,” Max said, a new, determined light shining in her eyes, as she walked down along the wall. “Ah. Chloe! I found the front door. Come on!”

Chloe dragged her gaze away from the barn, and dragged her attention away from the thoughts of Rachel and Nathan and the Dark Room, to where Max had found a hold in the sheet metal siding.

“Oh, yes,” she called, still trying to sound happier than she was, as she stooped and followed the shorter girl inside, “Maximus rules!”

The inside of the building was dusty, full of loose grains and pollen, probably. Filthy, but also beautiful, somehow. Sunlight drifted in through gaps in the walls and rafters, illuminating the particles dancing on the air. If she was more of a hipster douche, and if the circumstances were any different, Chloe would have thought that this place could make a decent date. Max would love the lighting, and there was plenty of hay to roll in. But all she could think about was why Nathan would take Kate here, and if Rachel had been here before her. If Rachel could still be here.

“God,” Max muttered, “this is way too Blair Witch. I have goosebumps all over.”

“Come on, Max,” Chloe said, lightly tapping the other girl’s shoulder as something caught her attention, “check out this old chest!”

“We’re being careful, Chloe, remember” Max admonished, as Chloe pulled it open, and briefly thought of pirates, “so maybe try to keep your voice down?”

“Right, right,” Chloe whispered, already leafing through the books and paper stored in the huge container, “but check out this old jackpot. It’s all about the Prescotts. Libraries, businesses, fucking bomb shelters.”

“Nice scrapbook,” Max said, rising to her feet, and lightly patting Chloe on the back. “You search for more clues and I’ll scope out the area.”

“Right,” Chloe said, barely audible, “okay, this is boring. Boring too.”

The information all laid out in front of her was easy to get lost in. It was a good distraction reading about all the shit Arcadia Bay’s worst family had been getting up to through the years. They had built bomb shelters, bought up businesses, and had plans for more and more gentrification, plans to wreck the Two Whales, and turn Arcadia Bay into something else completely. But, as Max did her normal nosy routine of poking around the area, Chloe had to admit that most of the information was fairly generic, having more to do with Nathan’s dad than Nathan personally.

“Okay, Chloe,” Max called from the other side of the empty space, “I found some kind of a hatch, but it’s locked. I got this, I hope.”

“Let me know the second you need any help,” Chloe called, looking up from the old newspaper clippings.

“Chloe, can you give me a hand?” Max said, after a moment, standing under one of the higher platforms.

“Sidekick at your service,” Chloe said, as she stood up, walked over, and tried to boost up the smaller girl, all while very carefully not looking at her ass. “Up, up and away!”

“I dig having minions,” Max chuckled, when she was up on the higher platform.

Chloe watched, craning her neck up as Max moved around, close to the roof. She pulled a motor down, onto a lower platform, and climbed up even higher. Even just watching her moving around up there, on the old boards, creaking noisily underneath her made Chloe’s anxiety spike.

“Please be careful up there, Max.”

“Hey, Chloe,” Max called, in response, “can you attach that hook to that padlock?”

“Oh, you are clever, I am all over this,” Chloe said, as she walked over, seeing what Max was thinking. “Thy will be done.”

There was a long, long pause once the hook was in place. Chloe took a couple of steps back, and tried to see what was going on up there.

“Crap,” Max shouted, anger running through her voice, “if that motor was still up there I could use it to pull it off.”

“Could you grab it and jump off? Use your own body weight, to pry it open, maybe?” Chloe suggested.

“Not unless I want to tear my flesh off,” Max called back.

“What about those old hooks and pulleys and shit?”

“If you think those rusted things are going to work then you’re dead wrong, Chloe,” Max shouted, her voice angry.

“Max,” Chloe shouted back, wanting to snap, before she caught herself, and controlled her anger. “Sorry, right, come on down, we’ll figure this out.”

Max climbed down, and stared at her, a strange expression on her face.

“What is it, Chloe?” She said. “You’re staring at me.”

“You look pissed.”

“I am. But, like, not at you. Remember that creepy drawing?”

“Yeah,” Chloe said, looking away, down at her boots, “Rachel in the Dark Room. I’m thinking of it too. Thinking about her, and what could be hidden from us on the other side of that lock.”

“So why aren’t you pissed?” Max asked, crossing her arms, and closing her eyes.

“I am,” Chloe said, breathing hard, “but if she is down there then us getting pissed isn’t going to save her. We need to think through this. What are our options? We know someone was here recently, and that’s a new lock. Hella tough one I’m guessing. I don’t think we can cut through it anytime soon.”

“We could go to the police.”

“And what? Tell them that we were trespassing on private property, and there was a lock there that we thought was suspicious? Even if the AB PD wasn’t a complete fucking joke and wasn’t also in the pocket of the Prescotts, they’d never listen to a punk like me, not after all the petty crimes I’ve done.”

“Chloe,” Max said, suddenly opening her eyes, “I have an idea what to do, but you’re not going to like it anymore than I liked the idea of getting future Max involved.”

“David, right?” Chloe said, meeting her gaze steadily.

“How did you know?”

“He’s going to be eating at home with Joyce tonight, trying to patch things up, I guess. And we know that he was obsessed with all this shit too. It’s kinda hard not to think of him when I’ve been living with that bastard for as long as I have. Plus as much as I’d like to control them, he’s got all the guns. So yes, he was on my mind.”

“So will we go get his help?”

“Fuck no,” Chloe said, spitting on the floor, “ and don’t fight it, Max, either. Don’t fight me on it. I’d rather fucking die than getting him involved.”

“I’m with you to the end, Chloe,” Max said, taking a step back, “you know that. But then what are we going to do?”

“It’s getting later in the afternoon, right?” Chloe said. “Evening isn’t too far off, and we know that Nathan is going to be at that party at the lighthouse. So I say we go there, kick his ass, and get him to give us the fucking key to that fucking lock. And also maybe kill him.”

“Chloe,” Max said, finally taking a step forward, and taking the taller girl’s hands in hers, “are you looking for revenge?”

“Not right yet,” Chloe said, pulling her hands back, hating the anger in her voice, even as she spoke, “that comes after we save Rachel. Enough talking, are you fucking with me or not Max?”

“I am, Chloe,” Max said, concern, worry and hurt running through her eyes, as she looked up at Chloe, “until the very end. Best friends forever. But we still have to be careful. You have to be careful, okay?”

“Yeah, fine, Max. Whatever. Let’s go,” Chloe said, turning away from her, and walking out of the barn, and leaving the locked hatch still closed behind her, as Max followed after, shaking her head.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next up? The end of the world. Enjoy!


	23. The End of the World

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The End of the World
> 
> CW for intense interpersonal violence, drug use, and other in-game themes.

The End of the World

“Dying is an art like everything else. I do it exceptionally well.”

-Sylvia Plath

The sun was setting in a blaze of near-apocalyptic-fire over the Pacific as the truck’s tires slid across the dirt, and Chloe slammed on the break, pulling off suddenly onto the side of the road.

“Chloe, are we going to get in trouble for parking here?” Max said, as Chloe pulled her keys out of the ignition.

“First, fuck the police, second, look at all the rest of the Blackhell shits parked along here,” Chloe said, gesturing to all the other cars parked under the trees. “Third, we’re about to be in hella more trouble for what we’re going to do to Nathan.”

“What are we going to do to Nathan?”

“Kick his fucking ass and get into his little locked hole in that shit-ass barn. Enough talking, let’s fucking go, Max.”

The sunset stretched out on the horizon, past the lighthouse, visible up the wooded slope stretching above them, through the pines, as Chloe started hiking away from the road. Max followed behind her, but, driven by fear, and the thought that Rachel could be in that barn, under its lock and hatch, Chloe was racing up ahead. She did not notice Max, or look back at her. Already she could hear the thump of music, and see figures moving through the trees, and already she was thinking about just what she would do to Nathan when she found him, all the anger of his violation solidifying into hate in her chest.

“Chloe, hold up!” Max called after her.

“No fucking time,” Chloe said, flexing her shoulders, as she kept stomping forward, “the Prescotts have had this coming for a hundred years, and no one is going to stop me. Try to keep up.”

The thump of the bass reverberated through the ground, as Chloe cleared the tree-line, with Max trying to keep up. It was early in the life of this party, with the last of the daylight splashed out against the sky. But already the party was crowded, with students dancing and drinking by the campfires that were just now being lit. People, probably members of the Vortex Club, were setting up lights, pyrotechnics, speakers, bars, tables, and more. The lighthouse, looming above them, was already covered in graffiti. Chloe scanned the crowd but could not find that little prick anywhere.

“Hello, hello,” a familiar voice slurred, as Max caught up to the taller girl. “You decided to escort me after all, eh ladies.”

“Shit,” Chloe muttered, as Warren, already reeling from alcohol, peeled off from the crowd. “What the fuck are you doing at a place like this?”

“Trying to feel like a normal student,” he said, as a camera in his hand flashed. “Drank. About half a beer, at least, if you call that drinking.”

“Oh, uh, Warren, you alright after the other day?” Max asked, uncertainty spiking through her voice. “You don’t look so great.”

“Oh, I’m great, you know, got shut down by you and her, and, like, I guess I didn’t know you played for the other team. You, Max, figured you did Chloe.” he slurred. “Ouch. My nose still hurts after you slugged me, and Nathan was here. That dude is a bully, and he was creeping me out.”

“You’ve seen him?” Chloe asked, grabbing him roughly by the collar, his stinking breath blowing in her face. “Where? Tell me where he is, Warren, now? Or I’ll fucking punch you again.”

“Jesus, I don’t know,” he muttered. “He was out here earlier, helping people get ready. I haven’t seen him in a little.”

“Where was he?”

“I told you, I don’t know!” He protested. “Last I saw him he was talking to Victoria under the lighthouse.”

“Chloe,” Max said, firmly, laying a hand on her shoulder, “let him go. Please.”

“Fine. Get lost, Warren, get out of here,” Chloe said, shoving him away, as she walked into the party.

There were too many people here, packed too tightly around her. Even with the sun still visible it felt claustrophobic, and far too loud. This was not the good intensity of a punk show, where Chloe could be comfortably numb, or vent the emotions boiling inside her. This crowd was full of Blackhell preps, all clustered around her and pumped full of cheap alcohol and who knows what other shit drugs. There was anger in her chest, and her head, and she held onto that anger, using it to drive her forward, into the party. She could not forget the barn, and Rachel. Was she there in the dark? People reached out for Chloe, like they were clawing at her, trying to hold her back. She wove her way past a woman in a grey hoodie, with a shaved head, and on through the sea of bodies, parting it before her.

“Chloe, wait up!” Max shouted again, once more falling behind.

Chloe did not wait. The lighthouse reached up into the salty air above, and for once it felt like the opposite of Max. This was not safety in a chaotic and dark world. But she still needed to keep going. Her anger kept her going, and there she was, at last.

“Hello, Victoria,” Chloe said, as she reached her, in the center of a cloud of fumes and haze.

“Oh, hey Chloe,” Victoria said with a huge, stupid plastered across her face, as she turned around. "Oh, that cut on your face looks badass. Are those stitches?"

“Woah, what the fuck are you on?” Chloe asked, taking a step back. “What are you high on?”

“High on the party,” she slurred, her legs unsteady.

“Chloe!” Max shouted.

“What, Max?” Chloe snapped, wheeling away from the blonde.

“I just got a text from Nathan,” Max said into her ear, over the cacophony.

“What? Let me see it.”

Chloe snatched the phone from Max, before she could object.

“I hear you and that punk are nosing around the party looking for trouble. Meet me in the junkyard if you want any evidence before I’m done.”

“It has to be a trap, Chloe,” Max said, taking her by the shoulder.

“I don’t care, Max.”

“Chloe, just for once would you stop and listen to me?”

“Max, I need to save Rachel. Remember, no one is fucking going to stop me,” Chloe shouted. “You fucking with me or not?”

“I’m with you, but…”

“But nothing,” Chloe interrupted. “Let’s bail. Nathan can’t hide anymore.”

For a second, before she left, Chloe looked back at Victoria. Her hair was a wreck, as were her clothes, and the party was just getting started. Chloe did not recognize the effects of any drugs she knew. She could do something, she knew. But she was Victoria, right? She had all her Vortex Club bitches right here. And she was a bitch too. Chloe turned, and walked away, heading back out of the crowd, with Max close behind.

“So you did end up coming,” a voice shouted at them, over the noise, grabbing Chloe’s attention.

She turned, and saw Jefferson, of all people, walking towards them, out of the mass of students.

“Oh, uh, hey Mr. Jefferson,” Max said nervously, frozen in place.

“You two together again,” he said, with a strange, knowing smile. “You didn’t listen to me, I’m guessing, but then, I’m here too, aren’t I, after all? Are you both on a mission or something?”

“Let’s get the hell out of here, Max,” Chloe said, taking her by the hand.

“We’ll talk later, Max!” Jefferson called after them, as the taller girl pulled Max away from him.

Chloe had a sharp pain pounding in her head, as she left the party, Jefferson, Warren, and Victoria all behind them, up on the cliff-tops, under the lighthouse. It was growing later, and the dark was deepening, with clouds scuttling above them. The pines all around them seemed to claw up at the sky. Chloe stoked the anger in her head, and the heat in her chest. That anger, that pain, was safe. It kept her going, and kept her from other emotions.

“Are we going to talk about this, Chloe?” Max shouted, irritation in her voice, as they climbed up into the truck.

“Nothing to fucking talk about, Max,” Chloe snapped, hating that her anger was coming out on Max, but still unable to stop it exploding from her mouth, “I want Nathan’s punk ass right the fuck now.”

The engine coughed beneath them, and in seconds they were speeding towards the familiar, rusted junkyard. The radio was on, but only blared static, deafening, and loud. Arcadia Bay looked like hell.

“This has to be a trap, Chloe,” Max snapped. “You aren’t listening to me, but please, please, think about this.”

“Listen, Max,” Chloe said. “Just shut up. Rachel was a fucking idiot, who didn’t actually love me, but she still doesn’t deserve to be locked in a barn for months. Or if, if she’s not alive she didn’t deserve that either. This universe is fucked up, and Nathan’s the one responsible. Frank’s gone, Nathan doesn’t have any way to get more drugs, and I fucking want answers. So either this ends tonight or I do, got it? Just fucking have my back.”

“Fine,” Max said, as the truck slid to a stop.

“Good,” Chloe shouted, as she leapt from the truck into a mud puddle.

“At least stop stomping around,” Max said, following behind her.

The junkyard had been her place. Chloe and Rachel, safe, together, and hiding from the world. There were too many memories here, of Rachel, and then Max, and even Frank. It was all wrong. The world was upside down and Chloe felt like she was dying inside. Even this scrap metal was wrong. Everything felt clouded, and wrong, as she prowled around it, looking for Nathan around every corner.

“Remember talking about rewinds?” She comment, unsure why it popped into her head. “Wish we really could do that now, so I could kick the little punk-ass bitch over, and over, and over again.”

“Jesus, be quiet, okay?” Max hissed back. “We have to be invisible.”

“Rachel, I will get you revenge, I swear,” Chloe muttered, ignoring the other girl. “Come on, come on, Nathan. Where the fuck are you?”

“Listen, we can’t track Nathan if you aren’t going to be cool,” Max said, from behind Chloe.

“Max, please just hurry,” Chloe said sharply, and angrily, not bothering to look back at her friend.

There was just a momentary pause, before Max replied.

“Hold up, you fucking dumbass,” Max said, suddenly, her voice shouting, changing, different.

“What is it Max?” Chloe said, wheeling around, on her heel. “We’re here to fuck up Nathan, and I don’t need to talk with you about it.”

“Yes, you do, asshole,” Max said, and Chloe recognized that voice, and the way she was holding herself, confident and angry.

“Future Max?”

“Of course I’m her, asshole,” she practically snarled. “Now shut up and listen, because after I black out I won’t remember any of this. The storm is still out there. I think every time I jump back in time to now, and here, in this timeline, it gets even closer. Things from other timelines show up, like the snow, or the whales, or even that train that came out of nowhere and nearly hit you.”

“What storm?” Chloe asked desperately. “Nothing you ever say makes any goddamn sense.”

“The storm that might as well be the fucking end of the goddamn world as far as we’re concerned. No time, though. I’ll try to find you for real, not in these stupid body jumps, when this is all over, and take care of some unfinished business, but just know that you’re going to have to find me, find her, I guess, on your own. I can’t help or the storm will come. Do I make myself clear?” She said sarcastically.

“Not at fucking all!” Chloe shouted.

“Yeah, well, tough shit, asshole. We don’t have any more time. Any second he could be here.”

“Who could be here?” Chloe asked, stepping forward, as the sun touched the horizon. “Who’s coming? And what goddamn storm. This whole week you’ve been dodging answers. When are you from? How does Max become you? Why are you here? And who are you trying to save?”

“He's got a weak left foot from a bad break years before, and you better find me, dumbass,” Max said with a sneer, ignoring all her questions, “and sorry about this.”

“Sorry about what?”

Chloe did not even see her move, but she must have grabbed something, an old board, a baseball bat, something, from one of the junk heaps nearby. And in one fluid motion she brought it up, and back down on Chloe’s head. Hard. The world reeled, and Chloe stumbled backwards, her head in her hands, fighting unconsciousness.

“Chloe, fuck, are you okay?”

“Stay back fucker!” Chloe shouted, standing back up, and trying to focus on Max through the growing haze.

“Chloe, did I black out again? Oh god, did I hurt you?”

“Max,” Chloe whispered.

Chloe’s eyes tried and failed to adjust to the sudden confusion, and the growing haze. There, in the gloom, was Max. Her Max, presumably, the girl she had probably fallen in love with, not her future, horrific self. And behind her loomed a tall figure. Chloe tried to focus on it, but could not make out any features, as it stabbed something into Max’s neck. Was that a gun it was holding?

“Oh, no,” Max said, and Chloe could tell, even as everything faded, and her knees buckled, that the shorter girl was falling down, probably falling into unconsciousness, pumped full of drugs drugged.

“What the fuck,” Chloe muttered, as a single shot rang out, and she fell backwards, collapsing to the ground, sharp pain running through her

As the world grew dark, and cold around her, and the dirt dug harshly into her back, Chloe found her head turning, falling, more like, until she was looking down at the horizon. The sun was hovering there, just above the ground, and as her eyes closed, the last thing she saw was an eclipse, just now starting, as the moon swallowed the sun, in a distant blaze of gold and red and yellow, blurring out into strange, unknowable, infinities of the universe, as she lost consciousness.


	24. An Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In the dark.
> 
> CW for intense interpersonal violence, detainment, forced drug use, death, and other late-game themes.

An Epilogue

“This is a journey deep into darkness. There will be no more stories after this one.”

-The Narrator, Hellblade: Senua’s Sacrifice.

Max was alone in the dark, and something was wrong.

Something else was there. It felt like it was pushing against her forehead, like she had felt all week, but stronger. It was very close, whatever it was, and something was very, very wrong. It was right there, in her head stronger than it had ever felt before. Like the entire universe was running through her mind, as her eyes flickered open.

“There you go, the perfect subject,” a familiar voice said happily. “You know, I was planning on just getting Max, originally. No offense, but her photos have so much more heart than yours, Victoria, but this weekend, seeing you framed in so many different lights, I knew I could frame you in the dark, and make you into an actual masterpiece. For a moment I nearly gave up on Max, before I saw her prying into things with that blue-haired girl at the party, despite my warnings. Then I knew I needed to act, and I knew the perfect place to ambush them. And now you’re both here with me. It all came together, well, picture perfect, I’d say.”

Max stirred, as the memories came flooding back to her. She remembered Chloe dragging her everywhere. No, she had chosen to go with Chloe. Partners in crime, right? She had wanted to be with Chloe. Chloe deserved a friend, and maybe more than a friend. And then, in the junkyard, after the party, he had shot her. Mark Jefferson had shot Chloe. Just after Chloe Price had stormed back into Max’s life, and kissed her, she had died. And now Max was alone in the dark, laying in a corner, as the room unblurred, and she heard a shutter flash.

“What?” A faint, dim voice said, and she recognized it as Victoria.

“Don’t worry, I’ll get plenty of pictures of Max too. And then I’ll return you both. You won’t remember anything more than that whore Kate, or that dyke Chloe, after Nathan had his way with her. And after his body is found at the bottom of the cliffs with a signed confession note? Well, I will be free to go right back to teaching. And my pictures, of course. Yes! Right there! Perfect.”

She had loved Chloe. Been in love with her. More than just a friend, Max realized. She had known for a while, she thought. No boyfriends, and all those dreams about her. But now it was real. Now it was solid. She was drugged, and her wrists were taped together, and her favorite teacher was taking pictures of Victoria in her underwear in a chair. And even with all of that she could only think about Chloe, and how much she had loved her.

She was dead. She had been killed. Jefferson would blame Nathan, and she was dead and something was wrong. Her head pounded, and ached. Each time the Max from the future had come it had hurt like this. Was she coming now, to save the day once again? Then why the hell could she not have saved Chloe? Max knew she would do anything, turn back the clock of the universe itself, nuke Arcadia Bay, just to save her. Because the life of one poor, queer, traumatized girl might not heavy meant anything to whatever gods were real, or to the universe, or to some bullshit greater plan, but it meant everything to Max. But Chloe was dead and something was very, very wrong.

She looked around, as her head cleared slowly, the drugs leaving her system. Is this how Chloe had felt waking up? Was this what she had been through? She was in some sort of concrete room, with no windows. It reminded Max of those old bunkers, except it was sleek, and new. Smooth jazz was playing, and there was a dizzying array of photography equipment set up around them, all pointed at Victoria, as she sat in that damned chair, looking ahead sleepily, drowsily.

“Jefferson?” Victoria muttered.

“Yes, I’m here, Victoria,” Jefferson said, as he moved her chin, and took another picture. “I’m always going to be here. After this I can keep playing you and Max against each other. You have so much talent, unlike Kate, who couldn’t make it, and especially unlike that Rachel. You two could really achieve something, under my guidance.”

He was smiling. It was a more broad, and a more honest smile than Max could ever remember seeing on him before. She remembered how she had adored him, admired his work, and wanted to learn from the best. That was so much of the reason she had gone to Blackwell. That and Chloe. And now he was doing this. He was the one behind Rachel, Kate, and now her disappearance. He was the monster, and all that former adoration turned bitter, and foul inside her mouth. If anyone was the death in Arcadia Bay, then it was him, Mark Jefferson. Et in Arcadia Ego.

She looked around, trying to find some way of escaping. Her wrists and legs were taped tightly together. Maybe Chloe could escape it, but not her. She tried to stay quiet. Jefferson had not realized she was awake, and that was her one advantage. She would only have one chance. No do-overs, no chances to retry anything right? Around her static seemed to be building, like the world was ripping, and tearing, like film burning. Her head pounded.

“Sorry, Kate,” Victoria mumbled.

“You have nothing to apologize for,” Jefferson began, as he bent low over her neck, before a sudden metallic thump interrupted him. “What?”

Max watched, struggling against her bonds, as Jefferson took a tripod and hid behind a corner. Something was very, very wrong. It was more than the drugs, and the abduction. It was more even than Chloe’s death, which did not feel real. Something hummed against her skull, trying to get out, like some strange gods were drilling out of her brain.

She could only watch as David rounded the corner, a gun in his hand, and Jefferson disarmed him. The thing in her head, the power, the force, whatever it was, was burning. It felt like when future her, when she, whoever she had been, would be, had saved Chloe, every time but the last. It felt like a river washing away a dam, or like a storm long contained, finally breaking free. She wanted to let that power go, and help David kill Jefferson. She wanted revenge, bitter and angry.

But it was not enough. The power, the universe, dark infinities, strange old gods, psychosis, whatever it was that she felt in her head did not spring from her fingers. Wanting to save David, the homophobe, of all people, was not enough. Revenge was not enough. She could only watch as Jefferson hit him in the chest, cry out his name, and watch him slump to the floor from a blow to the head.

“No!” She wailed, unable to control herself. “David, no!”

“Jesus, David Madsen,” Jefferson muttered. “He’s out cold. Good, I always hated that fascist fuck. Everybody at Blackwell did, right Max? Yes, I see you over there. I heard you. This will make things more complicated, but I think you and I will be able to work something out, don’t you?”

He sauntered over to her, passing by Victoria, and picking up a small vial of some drug as he went. David remained motionless, in a heap on the floor. Smooth jazz still played. The lights flickered, as Max strained against her bonds in futile desperation, and as inside her head a storm was raging, spiraling out into infinity.

“Sorry, Max,” Victoria slurred, her head rolling over to look at Max.

“Nothing to apologize for, again, Victoria,” Jefferson said, as he smiled down at Max, “after all, you, me, and Max here will have all the time in the world.”


	25. ...And What Comes After

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We're back!
> 
> CW for discussions of interpersonal violence and assault.

...And What Comes After

“It is not death that man should fear, but he should fear never beginning to live.”

-Marcus Aurelius, Meditations

Chloe was alone in the dark, and above her were two moons, each just past full, floating in the night. Then her eyes focused, and the two-moons resolved into one again. She was alive, and a little woozy. Her recent memory was blank. She had, what? She had found a barn, and been worried that Rachel was in there, even if she knew what was more likely. And then she had dragged Max to a party with Victoria, and Warren, and Jefferson all there. And then what? There had been an eclipse. She remembered that unnatural eclipse, frozen in her mind, like a photo on a wall.

Then everything came rushing back to her.

She remembered wanting to kill Nathan, and the junkyard. She remembered future Max hitting her, and knocking her out. She remembered Max, her Max, getting drugged. And she remembered getting shot. She had heard the shot, and felt the pain. Right? Then how was she still alive?

There was something wet dripping down her neck, and she was cold. Her face hurt worse than anything she could remember. She groaned as she reached up, and touched her cheek. There was a gash there, covered in large amounts of drying blood, opposite the stitches from the train on her other cheek. Was that a bullet wound? Had she been that close to being shot? That close to dying? Had Nathan really thought she was dead, that he had finished the job, and left her in the junkyard?

She did not know, but she did know she was alone. She was alone in the dark, and the reality of that hit. Max was not by her side. She had personally dragged Max along with her, and in the last moments of consciousness Chloe had seen her drugged. She had also seen Victoria drugged at the party. By Nathan? It had to be, and she thought she knew where they both were. She had fucked up. This was her fault, and she wanted to curl up, on the barren patch of ground, and just go numb. She wanted to sink into the earth, and join whatever else was dead down there, and just rest.

But she could not. She was in love with Max. And no one, not even Victoria, deserved Kate’s fate, Rachel’s fate, her fate waking up with Nathan leering at her, and taking her picture. She needed to think, and to do that she needed to find some motivation. She settled on anger. Anger was safe, and numbing, and she probably felt it too much, but right now she needed it. Anger flared inside her, as she slowly and painfully staggered to her feet.

She needed to think. Who could she go to for help? She checked her phone, woozily, but it was dead. The cops? No. Warren? Drunk, and maybe still at the party. Kate? Gone. Future Max? She had both knocked her out and also said that she could not help anymore. She groaned, as she realized what she needed to do.

The walk back to her truck was agonizing, and slow. Was she concussed? Probably. Maybe. Had she ever been concussed before, and could she really be sure? She probably should not drive, she knew, but she still needed to. It was only a short distance, at least. Max would just have to forgive her later. If Max was still alive. That was the worst of it, Chloe felt, even as she dragged herself to the pickup. She did not know how late it was. She did not know what was happening to Max, and she needed to save her no matter what. She did not know how long they had been separated. Max had been there for her. Max had been there in the dark. She needed to do the same thing for Max.

She hauled herself into her truck, and took a moment. What was it that the internet had said? Breathe. Count to ten. All that shit. Start the pickup, check the gas, pull out of the junkyard, drive slowly and carefully. Arcadia Bay was wrong. A cop car sped past her, its lights on. Graffiti was scrawled in places she had not seen before. A light was burning on the hill, in the dark, in the direction of the lighthouse. Dark clouds scuttled across the moon as she pulled into the front of her house.

She practically oozed out of her vehicle, onto the driveway, and across the lawn to her door. She hoped he was still there, as she tried to lock. It took a few attempts, but eventually the door slid open, and she staggered inside.

“Hey fuckers,” she muttered, more out of habit than actual, practical anger, as she leaned against the pictures on the wall.

“Chloe, is that you? We hear terrible things are happening out there,” Joyce began, before catching herself, “oh god, Chloe are you okay? That’s so much blood!”

“Yeah, I got shot,” she grinned, as Joyce and David ran up to her, and the step-fucker knelt down in front of her. “Also knocked out.”

“The shot is the cut on your cheek? Just barely grazing it looks like?” David asked, as he flashed his phone’s light in her eye, his tone strangely calm. “Were you injured anywhere else, Chloe?”

“Not that I know of. I think it hit me right as I was passing out and falling backwards,” Chloe said, shaking herself.

“Probably saved your life,” he said with a low whistle, “if you’d been standing an inch or two higher it probably would’ve gone through your brain.”

“I’ll make sure to thank future Max for that later.”

“What? Max was with you?” Joyce said, interrupting. “What happened, Chloe?”

“Joyce,” David said sharply, “let me handle this. So you got knocked out, Chloe? Do you remember what happened beforehand?”

“Yeah, I do.”

“How long were you unconscious?”

“Don’t know. Not too long since you’re still here.”

“Any nausea? Tremors?”

“Nope.”

“Can you follow my finger?” He said, moving it in front of her face. “Good. Your pupil dilation and eye movement is all fine. You’re really lucky, kid. Either that or someone knew what the hell they were doing.”

“Yeah,” Chloe said, pulling herself back up to her full height, “Max really must learn her shit in the future.”

“We should still take you to the hospital,” David said, as he too stood.

“That’s a negative, Captain Crunch.”

“Even if it’s scabbing over you still got shot, and you might have a concussion,” he said, his voice still firm, but lacking its normal anger.

“So I’ll have a scar on my other cheek! Chicks love scars!”

“Chloe!” Joyce snapped. “Just for once in your life can you keep a hold of your anger for a second and listen to him?”

“No!” Chloe yelled. “Well, yes, but no one listens to me. Remember that? And if you were ever gonna fucking listen this would be a hella good time to do it.”

“Chloe!” Joyce snapped.

“I took your fucking laptop, okay?” Chloe shouted at David, ignoring Joyce.

“I know,” he replied.

“Yeah, well, like, we finished your fucking investigation. Me and Max,” Chloe said, the words spilling out of her before she could stop them. “We know what happened to Kate. What happened to Rachel. Who happened to them.”

“Who?” He said quietly.

“Nathan Prescott.”

“Do you have proof, Chloe?” Joyce asked, grabbing at David’s arm.

“He shot just now! And also he nearly shot me a week ago in the bathroom at Blackwell!”

“What?” David barked. “The one that Max was hiding in? She gave me a story about not being able to remember what happened in there.”

“Because she blacked out!” Chloe yelled, before dragging her anger back. “Which is the point. I think I know where Max is now.”

“She’s not with you?”

“No, Sergeant Pepper. I’m gay, but that doesn’t mean I’m with every girl in town. Just shut up and let me talk, okay?” She shouted, and looked at them both, as they fell silent. “I was with her in the junkyard, going after Nathan. He’s all messed up in what happened to Kate, and Rachel. And what is probably happening to Victoria too, right now. And he stabbed some drugs into Max’s neck!”

“Did you see him?”

“Well, no.”

“Then how do you know it was him, Chloe?” David said, looking down at her with a strange look in his eyes.

“We found a record of all his druggings. We have a record of him going out to this creepy barn. We found a picture of me that he took when he fucking drugged me, okay! Me when I was passed out on the floor of his room.”

“Oh my god, Chloe,” Joyce said, holding a hand to her mouth in shock. “Why didn’t you tell us?”

“Right, like I told you about the homophobe here. Like you’d believe me. And hey, David, I think you know how I feel about you. So please fucking believe me when I tell you this next bit, for once in your goddamn life. Me and Max went to where he takes girls. Yeah, we were trespassing, but we found his hideout, behind a hella intense lock. I saw Victoria at his stupid party, where she was all drugged up. I saw him stab something into Max’s neck and then shoot me. She was not there when I woke up. Right now he’s doing the same shit he did to me to Max, and to Victoria. I need to save them. Please. I’m asking you for help, so you should know that this is hella serious.”

“Chloe,” Joyce said, stepping forward, and taking her hands, “you’re hurt, you’re rambling and you need help.”

“No, Joyce,” David interrupted, putting a hand on her shoulder, “I believe her. It ties in to a lot of my investigation too.”

“Wait, you can’t be serious,” Joyce said, turning to face him, and letting go of Chloe.

“I’m deadly serious.”

“Then should we call the police?” Joyce suggested.

“Come on, David,” Chloe said, looking at him, “you of all people know what the cops around here are like. I got drugged, and taken to Nathan’s room. He had his hands all over me, and I nearly ended up like Kate. I could have, if Max hadn’t saved me. We don’t have fucking time to go through them.”

“Plus they’re busy with everyone freaking out,” David nodded.

“Wait, what?”

“After that freaky eclipse, at sunset,” David said, “students at the lighthouse freaked out. And for once I can hardly blame them. It’s been a bizarre week, with the snow, and the whales, and everything else. And everyone there was on something. There are fires breaking out all around town, and the police have their hands full. It’ll be hours before they can respond, if they respond. If they don’t just give us hell for trespassing on Prescott property. I’m with Chloe, call the cops, Joyce. Tell them where we’re going, hopefully they will get there eventually. But we have to do this alone, before then.”

“We’re gonna need hella guns,” Chloe said, already feeling better, as she grinned up at David.

“David,” Joyce said, pulling him aside, as her voice broke, “this is insanity. That’s my daughter. I love her more than anything. She’s gotten shot, and nearly hit by a train. I can’t lose her. Not after...not after everything.”

“Joyce,” Chloe said, taking a step forward, “I mean, mom. You know how you feel about me? I can’t lose Max. She can’t fall off into the dark, like Rache didl. She can’t go through what Kate went through. What I went through. Even Victoria deserves better. Okay, end of discussion?”

“And Joyce,” David said, clearing his throat, “for once in my life I could do something worthwhile. I could make up for all the mistakes I made with Rachel, and Kate. And even with you, Chloe. I think we need to do this.”

“I swear, David,” Joyce said, poking a finger into his chest, “if she dies I will never, ever forgive you, and we are done. Do you understand?”

“Yes ma’am.”

“And you, Chloe,” Joyce said, turning to her, “stay alive. Just stay alive. Come back to me. I love you.”

“I love you too, Mom,” Chloe said, feeling the anger and rage that had sustained her for so long falter, for just a second, into guilt, before she remembered Max, in the Dark Room, like Nathan would say, and knew what she needed to do. “Now, step-fly, lets go get those hella guns already.”

As they armed themselves, and geared up for a fight, the cloud cover intensified overhead, obscuring the moon. There were probably not too many fires, in the gloom of a coming storm. But in the darkness they seemed to burn bright, and ever more apocalyptically. Chloe braced herself to save Max, even if some part of her felt the world was ending all around her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, I'll admit, I was kinda an asshole not commenting on the previous two chapters much, and giving more time before updating. But! In fairness, I don't think I strictly speaking lied. The previous chapter could be AN epilogue, even if it isn't THE epilogue. I was just creatively building some tension. Also it gave me some time to build up a little bit more of a buffer in my writing.
> 
> So yes, you didn't think I'd actually kill Chloe, did you? Future Max knew her stuff, and we are here, although how this ties into what Max saw will just have to wait. Enjoy!


	26. Dark Night of the Soul

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A confrontation.
> 
> CW for intense interpersonal violence and late-game themes.

Dark Night of the Soul

“Death is only the end if you assume the story is about you.”

-Welcome to Night Vale

“You better not fucking scratch her,” Chloe said, as she climbed up and into the passenger seat.

“She’s already been tore up more than anything,” David said, as the engine once again coughed, the sound familiar, but also strange, now that he was the one driving it.

“Yeah, and she’s still mine, so don’t scratch her,” Chloe said, as they pulled away from the house. “I still can’t fucking believe you didn’t let me have a gun.”

“I’ve got two forty-fives,” David said, not looking at her, as they headed inland. “Holy shit, look at that fire those hoodlums started.”

“Oh god, fucker, they’re just students, not goddamn hoodlums. And what about my fucking gun?” Chloe insisted. “Nathan could be armed and you yourself told Joyce that we can’t wait for the cops.”

“Your mother is probably going to divorce me when I get back, Chloe,” David said, his hands wrapped tightly around the steering wheel, and his knuckles white. “How could she not, after I agreed to this shit with you?”

“Good, I hope she does,” Chloe said, checking the bandages on her one cheek, and the stitches on her other. “Wait, do you really think that? Then why are you agreeing at all to this ass-backwards plan?”

“It is bad, I know, Chloe,” David said, something unfamiliar running through his voice, like some emotion choking him. “But you won’t die, Chloe. You can’t. The guns are our very last resort. We don’t use them, and you don’t even get them unless we absolutely need them. Understand?”

“Yeah, yeah, sure. But answer the question. Why are you doing this?”

David paused, and cleared his throat, and then repeated the whole process. They were speeding through the country, down gravel roads, as low storm clouds flickered with dim, distant lighting. Dense pines surrounded them, feeling, to Chloe, like they were reaching out to claw at them. She shifted uncomfortably, feeling strangely claustrophobic, as she realized that David was near tears.

“I failed, Chloe,” he said. “And I know that isn’t going to make you forgive me, or anything like that, but I still failed you. I failed that girl, Kate. Fuck, I, I even failed your old girlfriend, Rachel. I’ve failed at so much. And now, with Max, well, I don’t know what I’ll do if Nathan does something to her? She’s a good kid, despite the weed. You chose good. I’m glad you survived him, Chloe, and I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry.”

“Yeah, well,” Chloe sniffed, looking away from him, out into the night, “we can fucking talk about this later. Let’s save her ass first. You got the bolt cutters?”

“Yeah, yeah, of course,” he replied, his voice hoarse.

“Good. It’s not far now.”

They were leaving Arcadia Bay. Hundreds of years ago racist men had reached these shores, stolen it, and decided it was heaven. But if there was a heaven out there, somewhere, this was about the furthest from it Chloe could imagine. They had built this town within the reach of tsunamis, on the edge of the ring of fire, and somehow made it even worse. It was so, so dark out there, as if the universe itself was spiraling out into distant infinities.

They roared past a man burning some trash illegally, and for a second Chloe saw his face, frozen in the moment. She wondered if god, or, well, gods, whoever it was that looked over her, saw things like that, frozen in time. The man never moving, the fire never consuming, always just an eternal memory. An eternal now. She hoped whatever old gods were out there were listening now, as she prayed, and tried to numb her emotions.

She was scared. She knew that now. She could not numb herself to that, not completely, at least. She was not high, and not drunk. She wanted to be, but instead she was a live wire, running with nervous energy. She knew that Nathan could be doing horrible things to Max. She knew the things that he had done to her. Max was so sweet, and so innocent. She deserved better than this. Would she be there in time? Would she save her? The emotions coiled up inside Chloe’s chest, settling in there, and hurting.

“Is this it?”

“Yeah,” Chloe said, as they pulled up outside the barn.

The wind was growing more intense, as the truck rolled to a halt. Chloe had planned on this going differently. She had thought she would be the one to save Max. But for all his shit, David did know how to handle a gun. He was already ahead of her, opening the doors into the barn. Hopefully he wouldn’t get taken by surprise, at least, the fucking fascist.

“It’s clear in here,” he whispered, as she walked in. “Stay close.”

“Can I have that second gun you’ve got in your holster?” She asked, as they both looked at the open metal hatch.

“No,” he hissed back, as he flipped the safety on the gun in his hand, “and stay behind me.”

She hung back, as he walked down the stairs, on the other side of the hatch. Despite herself, and her words, Chloe was more than happy to let him go ahead. That fear still lurked inside her. After the train, after Kate, after Nathan, and especially after Max, she wanted to stay alive. Only the fear that something worse could happen to Max kept her moving forward, into whatever hellish Prescott bunker this was laid out in front of her.

“That’s a hella serious door.”

“Is everything a joke to you?” He whispered.

“Only the serious things.”

“Well, I can guess the pass code with a number pad this pathetic, but once it opens stay behind me, and keep quiet. Do you understand me, Chloe? And for once just do what I’m saying, okay?”

“Yeah, you’re the soldier,” she said, looking up at him, trying to find words for something she could not understand. “And David? Thanks.”

The door opened with a heavy thump, and David went in, gun-first. Chloe tried to remember the internet’s words. Breath in, breath out, count to three, and follow him inside, into the dark. For some reason, as she followed a few steps behind him, into the darkness of the bunker, she heard smooth jazz.

She barely stifled a curse, as David rounded the corner, into a lighter room, and immediately got the gun knocked from his hands. She stepped back, as, through the plastic strips hanging from the ceiling, she saw Mark Jefferson step forward, and knock her step-father out cold. She wanted to cry, but she could not be seen. She was still woozy. And then she heard the worst thing in the world.

“No,” Max’s voice cried, from around the corner, “David, no!”

“Jesus, David Madsen,” Jefferson panted, before standing up, and turning away from Chloe, hidden in the dark. “He’s out cold. Good, I always hated that fascist fuck. Everybody at Blackwell did, right Max? Yes, I see you over there. I heard you. This will make things more complicated, but I think you and I will be able to work something out, don’t you?”

He walked away from David, away from the darkness, and the plastic sheeting, without seeing Chloe. She inched forward, seeing David’s gun, and the one in his holster, only a few feet away. She saw Jefferson too, and Victoria taped to a chair. But most of all she saw Max, on the floor, with a wild, desperate look in her eyes as she struggled, and Jefferson took a small medicine vial from a shelf.

“Sorry, Max,” Victoria slurred, her head rolling over to look at Max.

“Nothing to apologize for, again, Victoria,” Jefferson said, as he smiled down at Max, “after all, you me and Max here will have all the time in the world.”

Chloe did not want to die. That past week had taught her that much. She wanted to be safe, and to live. She wanted to have a future. She was injured, and unsteady, and she wanted to stay in the dark, away from the danger, and the monster. But there were some things worth dying for. And Max was the best of them.

She broke cover, diving for the gun lying on the floor, as time itself seemed to slow. She saw Jefferson turning, and moving towards her, as her hands grazed across the weapon. And then her mind fogged, and ached, and her vision suddenly swam. She tripped on David’s body, crashed against the couch, and rolled awkwardly across it. She fell, and when she staggered back upright, she was staring down the barrel of a gun, David’s gun, with Jefferson holding it on her steadily.

“I thought you were fucking dead, bitch-ass blue-haired dyke,” he snarled. “I saw blood, and you fell. But I guess it’s my own fault for not checking that it wasn’t your fucking cheek. I won’t make the same mistake twice.”

“I love you, Max,” Chloe found herself saying, the words spilling from her mouth.

“Chloe!” Max screamed, as Mark Jefferson pulled the trigger.

***

She broke cover, diving for the gun, as time seemed to slow, and Max cried out.

“What the fuck?” Max shouted. “Chloe, stop!”

Chloe’s head swam, as she came to a halt, and reeled backwards. But did not stop, as he sprang for the gun, pulling it from the floor.

***

She broke cover, diving for the gun, as time seemed to slow, and Max cried out.

“You can teach me, Jefferson!” She called, and while he flinched, he did not stop, as he went for the gun.

***

She broke cover, diving for the gun, as time seemed to slow, and Max cried out.

“I love you, Jefferson.”

He stopped dead in his tracks, as Chloe carefully bent, and pulled up the gun, as fast as she could, without fainting. Then she trained it on him.

“Ah, Chloe,” Jefferson said coolly, and pleasantly, with a broad and open smile on his face, “the girl who was too cool for Blackwell.”

“Don’t talk,” Chloe said, trying to keep her hand steady, “I’m sick of men telling me what to do, and for just this once I am the one with the gun.”

“You do indeed have the gun,” he said, taking a step forward, towards her, “but will you actually use it?”

“Not if you do as I say,” she said, her eyes flicking to Max, who seemed to have developed a nosebleed.

“Of course, of course,” he said, he hands wide, and open, “you want me to let your girlfriend go. And if I don’t you’ll shoot me, right? Could you actually do it, do you think, Chloe? I know what all the people say about you, that you’re a stoner, and worthless. David there, the preps at Blackwell, they all think it. But could you actually prove them right? Could you prove that you’re just as criminal as you say?”

“Stop walking forward,” she said, her legs growing unsteady. “And stop trying to fucking get in my head. You don’t fucking know me.”

“But I do, Chloe,” he said, taking one step closer, as Victoria and Max watched, “I know you very well. I was like you, once, thinking I was worthless. I proved them all wrong. Can’t you understand that anger? That desire to finally expose the rottenness of it all? The unreality of them in their big houses, on their stolen land, with their big guns, telling all the rest of us how to live our lives. Don’t you just for once want to see them at your mercy? Make them kneel down before you? Show them how fake they all are?”

“Not everyone is fake.”

“And who’s real, then?” He asked, only a few steps away from her now.

“Max is.”

“I see. And is she worth killing me? Taking a human life?”

“Yes.”

She pulled the trigger, and the gun clicked. Jammed? In the moment, as Chloe processed that, Jefferson closed the rest of the distance to her, pulling the weapon from her hand. Time seemed to slow once again, and a sense of deja vu overwhelmed her, as he brought the gun down on her head. Hard.

***

“Well,” David said, as he looked at the door, “I can guess the pass code with a number pad this pathetic.”

“Wait,” Chloe said, interrupting him, as her phone vibrated, and she pulled it from her pocket.

“What could be so important that we need to wait, Chloe?” He hissed.

“It’s Max,” Chloe said, not believing her eyes. “From the old phone we decorated together. What the fuck? She says she’s inside and she says that your gun is jammed? And to be careful going around the corner.”

“That doesn’t make any sense, Chloe,” David complained.

“We’re outside a bunker getting texts from a phone that shouldn’t work, about something she shouldn’t know, as she’s sitting on the other side of this door. Nothing about this makes any sense. Just use your other fucking gun, idiot!”

“Fine,” he grumbled, as he holstered his gun, drew the other one, and opened the door.

“Good.”

It was dark on the other side of the door, and incongruously, smooth jazz was playing. Chloe hung behind David, as he walked ahead, his gun drawn. Sheets of plastic hung from the ceiling, and on the other side, the room was bathed in bright light. David paused, and looked at the corner, before taking a few steps back, and walking further around into the open.

“Stay right there, Jefferson!” He barked, holding his gun out, as Chloe heard the thump of something heavy hit the floor.

“David Madsen,” Mark Jefferson, of all fucking people, said, as he came into view, taking a step forward towards David, with his hands up. “It figures it would be you. The one man who saw through the charade of Blackwell. Why do we need to fight? You too can see the fakeness of it all, I know.”

“Fuck you,” David muttered, as he lowered his gun slightly, and fired, kneecapping Jefferson.

As he screamed in agony, Chloe dashed forward, as fast as she could, into the light. As David holstered his gun, and looked after Jefferson, Chloe took in the room around her. It was a bunker, built for the end of the world, it looked like. Cameras and lights were set all around Victoria, taped to a chair, her eyes unfocused, and vague. But Chloe only had eyes for Max, taped on the floor, with blood flowing from her nose.

“Oh god, Max,” Chloe gasped, as she crouched, and frantically tried to undo her bindings. “I was so fucking worried. I love you. I love you. I would’ve done everything to save you.”

“I know you would have, Chloe,” Max said weakly, as she slowly slumped back down. “I saw it.”


	27. Daybreak

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chloe and Max wind down, and watch a storm.
> 
> CW for discussion of death and violence.

Daybreak

“Not one would mind, neither bird nor tree, if mankind perished utterly. And Spring herself, when she woke at dawn, would scarcely know that we were gone.”

-Sara Teasdale, “There Will Come Soft Rains.”

When Max awoke again, hovering on the edge of consciousness, Chloe carried her up the stairs, out of the darkness and up into the barn. They leaned heavily against each other, and moved slowly, and unsteadily. Blood stained their clothes. David waited down in the bunker, looking through evidence, staying with the unconscious Victoria, and Jeffershit, who had passed out, in David’s makeshift restraints. He said he would wait down there for the cops, or at least until he was sure it was safe, leaving Max and Chloe to sit in the door of the barn, and look out at Arcadia Bay. 

Chloe did not know how long they sat there, together, in silence. First they were just leaning against each other, and then her arm was around Max. They were crying, and then the crying eventually stopped. They might have slept. She did not know. But as they watched the world the wind picked up, and rain started falling, and lightning flashed, like a storm was finally breaking, after the hell of that week.

“It feels almost like the world is ending,” Max said, like she was trying to fill the silence.

“Something is ending,” Chloe said, noncommittally, “but I don’t know if it will be the world.

They waited a while more, in dead silence, as the storm grew.

“I found out what gave future Max her control over time,” Max said, out of nowhere. 

“I think I can now rewind time, and reverse it. It was watching you die that did it, in that room down there, I watched him shoot you, and beat you, and drug you. I’ve felt it all this week, building up, through the blackouts, and her popping into the past. But watching you die finally opened something in my head, like this power spiraling inside me was always there, waiting to be set free.”

“Okay, dude,” Chloe said softly.

“You’re just going to believe me like that? That easily?” Max asked.

“I mean, I was the one who had to convince you I really was seeing future you all week, during your blackouts. And also you did somehow manage to send a text from that cell phone warning David to not be an idiot. I couldn’t figure out how you did it, and time-travel sounds as believable as anything else.”

“Yeah,” Max said, her voice somewhere between laughing and crying, “that took a lot of tries. So many iterations of it over and over, watching you die, Chloe.”

“Hey, it’s alright,” Chloe said, unsure what else to say, as the rain, whipped up by the wind, fell on their feet, and the hay blew around them. “I’m here with you now.”

“No it isn’t,” Max sniffed, her tears obvious now, as she buried her face into Chloe’s neck. “This is how I become her. I think. This must be, the dark room, all of that, it makes me into a monster. Like her. That’s who I will be.”

“Max,” Chloe said, taking her gently by her shoulders, “normally I wouldn’t be saying this, since you just went through some shit. Believe me, I know better than most.”

“Victoria and Kate went through worse. You interrupted him before he took his photos of me.”

“It still is hella shit, Max. We’re both gonna need some fucking therapy, probably,” Chloe insisted. “But just listen to me, before he shot me, before I blacked out, future you showed up. She gave me this bit of advice about Jefferson’s foot, which I never used. Or, at least, did I use it in any of the rewinds?”

“No,” Max said, looking up at her with her tear-stained face, “you didn’t.”

“That’s what I thought, because it slipped my mind. So clearly that Max was wrong about it. She didn’t know the future. Doesn’t. And she insisted she is just a possible you. We don’t know what made you into her, and maybe we never know. But you’re still you, after everything. You’re still Max fucking Caulfield. And you’re hella amazing. You decide your future. Nothing is written, yet.”

“Will you help me decide it too?”

“Of course,” Chloe said, laughing, as she felt her eyes grow damp, “I need a first mate on my pirate ship, after all.”

“I fucking love you, Chloe,” Max said, laughing too, and wrapping her up in the best hug ever.

“And, oof, I love you too, Max,” Chloe said, holding onto the other girl as tight as possible.

They stayed there for a long time, until their breathing finally slowed. Lightning struck a nearby pine, shattering it, as the wind picked up. The world was a dark and chaotic place, Chloe thought. But through the storm, over the trees, she saw the lighthouse. And Max was warm, and safe, and solid, and real, whatever else was happening, Chloe wanted to hold onto her. She sighed when the other girl finally let go of her.

“This is a crazy storm,” Max said, looking away from Chloe.

“I think it could be worse. Hey, Max?” Chloe asked, looking out at the night-time world. “I don’t think you should use your time travel super powers unless, like, I die again or something. Maybe not even then.”

“Why not?”

“Right before, well, he ambushed us, in the junkyard, future you told me she was bringing the storm with her, back in time, with the snow, and the whales, and the eclipse and all that shit. She honestly seemed scared, and I just, I don’t want to risk anything worse than this storm right now, right? And beside, you got through this week without it. You kicked ass, and you don’t need it.”

“I barely got through this week,” Max protested, leaning heavily against her. “With you, and future me, but especially you.”

“Yeah, but I’m not going anywhere. Partners in crime.”

“And in time too. But don’t worry, after that room, after seeing what a future me with time travel might become, even if we don’t fully know why, I don’t think I ever want to use it again. I never, ever would want to take back this week I had with you.”

“Yeah, you better not.”

Wind whistled through the trees, and the old barn creaked and groaned around them. Out in the rain Chloe could see dark shapes, crows, or deer, or some other animals, moving.

“Poor Victoria,” Max murmured, almost sleepily.

“Yeah, she didn’t deserve that,” Chloe said. “I should have warned her. One of my many regrets, I guess.”

“You didn’t do it to her, Chloe. He did. Jefferson did.”

“More like Jeffershit,” Chloe spat.

“He killed Nathan,” Max said, her voice faint. “He was talking about it in there, how he was going to frame him.”

“Then I guess he’ll be going away for life,” Chloe sighed, some complicated emotion running through her chest, “since he’ll be fighting Prescott lawyers. And I guess I won’t ever have any revenge on that little fucking perv. I don’t know how I’m supposed to even feel about that, right now.”

“Me neither. Mostly I feel tired.”

“Yeah, I guess I’ll leave the feelings ‘til later.”

“Hey, Chloe,” Max said, her voice suddenly vibrating with nervous energy, “can I stay with you tonight? I don’t want to go back to Blackwell. I don’t want to wake up alone in the dark again.”

“Yeah of course,” Chloe said, trying to find a joke, “I need to ask you like, where you think your new super powers come from.”

“Don’t joke, Chloe,” Max said softly, as her breathing slowed. “I don’t know. Mad science. Whatever is looking down on Arcadia Bay. A deus ex machina, I guess, someone out there deciding at the last moment to give me it, unable to let you die for real, just like me. Someone deciding our story wasn’t over yet. The Old Gods of Arcadia Bay. I’m just glad that it worked, and that you’re here with me.”

“Yeah, me too.”

She drifted off to sleep sometime after that. Chloe was not sure when, not exactly, at least. But she kept still, as Max gently rested on her shoulder. She tried not to shift around, or wake her. She deserved the rest. Outside the storm was still going strong, whipping the trees back and forth. Chloe was tired, but she could not sleep. She needed to keep Max safe. Whatever else became of her and her life, she knew at least that that much was true. It would always be true. She needed to keep Max safe. She needed to protect her.

“Is she asleep?” David’s voice said, from behind her, eventually, as the night time world seemed marginally brighter.

“Yeah,” Chloe whispered.

“So is Victoria,” he continued, sitting down heavily beside her. “Jefferson is unconscious and taped to his own fucking chair. We saved them.”

“You saved them, dude,” Chloe said, the sarcasm in her voice inescapable. “You get to be a hero, the way you always wanted to be.”

“I’m sorry, Chloe,” he said, shaking his head, “I was wrong.”

“What are you apologizing for now?”

“For Rachel, no, don’t move. She’s not down there.”

“But she is dead, isn’t she,” Chloe said, through tears, as Max slept on.

“I think so, yes. How did you know?”

Chloe tried to control herself, forcing her breath to be slow, and steady, as she replied.

“I think after I found this place, and didn’t find her, something clicked into place. Or maybe I’ve known for a lot longer.”

“I, uh, don’t know what to say,” he said, as the silence between them grew longer and longer.

“I loved her so much,” she said, eventually. “How can she be dead? What kind of world does this? Who does this? Jefferson?”

“Nathan, I think,” David said. “And I guess he’s beyond all human jurisdiction.”

“Yeah, no shit,” she sniffed.

“That’s why I’m sorry. For failing her. And you.”

“What evidence, David?” Chloe choked out.

“Pictures, shit he kept, and took,” David said after a pause.

“Can I see?”

“Later, Chloe,” he said, awkwardly resting a hand on her shoulder. “I know you don’t have any reason to trust me, but today? Tonight? It felt like the end of the world to me. You nearly got shot, and Max and Victoria could have died. You’ll need stitches in that other cheek. So please, just believe me, you don’t want to see this right now. And also right now that’s an active crime scene down there.”

“Will you show me it later?”

“Yes.”

“Swear it. Swear it on something that matters.”

“I swear on Joyce,” he said, after a moment.

She paused, catching her breath, before answering.

“Yeah, fine, just don’t get too comfortable.”

“Okay.”

They sat there together, the three of them, David, Chloe, and Max, who was gently snoring. The rain started to let up, outside the barn, as the world grew lighter and lighter, and the wind slowly died down. The thunder still rumbled, but it was distant, sounding over the mountains and the hills. Something seemed to have passed over them.

“Storm’s getting better,” David said.

“We’ll come through it soon enough,” Chloe replied, gently running a hand through Max’s hair. “She’s staying with me, David. With us, in the house, after this.”

“Why?”

“After this? I need to keep her safe. I don’t think I can let her leave me again. I can’t be taken from her side, and let that happen again.”

“It wasn’t your fault, Chloe.”

“Maybe, but I can still be better. I will be better,” she said, before she continued, under her breath, “for Max.”

“Okay then.”

They fell silent, once again, as, finally, the last dregs of the storm passed by. It was near dawn, Chloe realized, all at once. Birds started singing in the trees, and the sky, wherever it was visible through the scuttling cloud cover, was greying, as the stars faded from sight. They had survived, and made it through the night. She sighed, and rested her head down on Max’s. And for just a moment, she almost slept.

And then the Arcadia Bay cops were finally, after all that time, showing up. They raced through the trees with their sirens and lights on, waking Max. David put his hands in the air, but Chloe did not bother, as she held the other girl, and the cars skidded to a halt on the mud. People were shouting things all around them, but for just a moment she was staring at Max, past the blood, and the tears, and the dirt, and even her freckles, into her eyes, as deep and mysterious as the universe itself.

“I love you,” she said, and the other girl smiled.

“I love you too.”

And then cops and EMTs, and all sorts of other people were rushing all around them, wrapping them in blankets, and pulling them apart. Joyce was there, as was some old man Chloe thought she recognized from photos of Nathan. He was crying, and Joyce was smiling through her tears. But in all the confusion of lights and shouting, as the daylight finally neared, and the last of the scattered raindrops fell, Chloe only had eyes for Max, until they were at last separated from sight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so, I am in a weird position here that there are only about five or six more chapters, plus a bonus chapter planned in this section of The Old Gods of Arcadia Bay. But I have really been hit by an urge to write a new book (loosely genderbent queer retelling of Connla and Cu Chulainn if that means anything to anyone) so, uhhhhh, I'll try to update this when I can, but no guarantees. And thank you all for reading so far!


	28. After the Storm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A hospital trip, and some processing for Chloe and Max.
> 
> CW for discussions of death and date-rape drugs.

After the Storm

“Here's to you, the same chords that I stole, from a song that I once heard, the same melody I borrowed from the void. I'd rather observe than structure a narrative, the characters are thin, the plot does not develop, it ends where it begins.”

-The Menzingers, “Burn After Writing.”

“So, you’re back in here again, aren’t you?” The nurse asked, as she walked into the sterile and boring hospital room.

“You again!” Chloe said, smiling loopily, which made the new stitches in her cheek hurt. “What are the odds?”

“Apparently better than we might think,” she said with a heavy sigh. “But I don’t control how these things go.”

“I’ll say!” Chloe laughed, sitting on the bed in her hospital gown. “Where’s Max?”

“Well, you’re chipper. What pain meds do they have you on?” The nurse asked, ignoring her question as she looked at her clipboard.

“Honestly, I’ve been on stronger. Uh, you know, when they give me medication, that is, in the past. But mostly right now I’m just really tired, and a little hazy. Do you have a name, by the way? This is the third time we’ve seen each other, I feel like we should be on a first name basis by now.”

“No, there really isn’t any reason for you to know my name. Did they review your discharge notes with you?”

“Yeah, they did all the brain scan things and they say they think I’ll be fine. The doc just wanted me to take it easy, and not drive, and also to keep both of these cuts nice and clean before they finally take out some of these stitches. They also mentioned some therapy, especially ‘cause I might have to hella testify against Jeffershit. Which makes sense after all the shit this week. Where’s Max, by the way?”

“Jeffershit?” The nurse said, raising an eyebrow.

“Oh, right, that fucking predator they caught from Blackhell. Mark the monster Jefferson. Jeffershit.”

“Are you sure you’re not on anything?” The nurse laughed.

“I mean, like, not much, I don’t think. Where’s Max?”

“I’m right here,” a small, quiet voice said, as she stepped into the room.

It was Max. It was always Max. She seemed so scared, and so frightened. She was wearing yet another grey hoodie, this one without blood, or dirt caking it. But her hair was still a mess, and her eyes were wild. And she was cute, too, even so. Chloe suddenly was acutely aware that she was dressed only in a robe. But more than that, Chloe was hit by a sudden urge to hold her, and protect her. She wanted to keep that girl safe, no matter what.

“Anyway,” the nurse said, interrupting Chloe’s racing thoughts with a cough, “your mother? The lady who wouldn’t leave you earlier? She’s outside, waiting for you, and your clothes and belongings are on the chair. Any other questions before you leave?”

“Yeah, will I see you again?” Chloe asked, the words slipping out of her mouth before she could stop them.

“Gods, I hope not. You’ve already been here enough times already,” she laughed. “I’ll just show myself out.”

Chloe turned and looked to Max, who looked back to her, and coughed, before looking away. The silence grew between them. What were you even supposed to do in a situation like this? Chloe certainly did not know, and even now she felt more distant, and more tired, like she was seeing everything through fog.

“Uhhh, I’m just in a hospital gown, right now,” Chloe said, feeling suddenly hot. “Give me a second to change?”

“Oh, right,” Max said, turning around, and walking out the door, blushing behind her freckles.

Chloe changed quickly, or, rather, as quickly as she could. She had to steady herself a few times when she felt like the room was starting to spin around her. But in not too long she was wearing the clothes Joyce had brought in, and walking out of the door, into the hallway. There was Joyce, crying, and hugging her, despite the fact that she had already done this three times today, and there was David, looking awkward, and uncomfortable. And there was Max, smiling nervously, and fearfully.

Chloe was glad to leave the hospital behind her, even as her face and head hurt. Maybe it was just the injury future Max had given her, or maybe she was simply tired or maybe she just did not care, but as she sat in the back of David’s car, with Max, and they drove through Arcadia Bay, Chloe did not listen to what Joyce and David were saying. They were talking, she knew, about Nathan, and Rachel’s body being found, and about Jeffershit in prison, and legal matters, and Victoria in the hospital, and how Kate was coming back to visit her. They were talking about the Prescotts, and Principle Wells, and classes being indefinitely postponed at Blackwell for some sort of police investigation. But it all just sounded like some distant, unimportant droning to Chloe, as she looked out the window.

The town was beautiful. It shone, now, in the late afternoon sun, glistening and bright, like it was trying to make up for all the shit that had happened there. The storm had washed the air clean of pollution, and ash from any fires, and everything seemed bright. For just a moment, idly, Chloe thought that if there were any gods looking down on Arcadia Bay, listening to her, then they must not have been entirely bad. But then she remembered Jefferson, and William’s death, and everything else. And she frowned again. But before her mood could sour, she felt a light touch on her arm, turned, and saw Max looking at her, and smiled softly.

They ate delivery that night, cheap, fast and warm, huddled around the table. Like everything else, it seemed hazy, distant, and somehow almost unreal to Chloe. She knew that Joyce had asked David to stay the night, since she was too scared and shaken to be alone. And even that she could not care about, as she staggered upstairs, and into her room. The strange enthusiasm, and hilarity she had briefly felt when she was talking to the nurse was long gone, and now she just felt drained, and empty. She was so tired it took her a moment to realize that, as she collapsed onto the bed, Max was quietly joining her, lying down on top of the sheets on the other side of the bed.

“I’m so tired, Max,” Chloe mumbled.

Max didn’t respond, and Chloe opened her eyes, and tried to focus on the short girl. She had asked Joyce permission to stay, right? That had happened? Or had she simply imagined it? This whole day seemed like a blur, and already she could feel herself forgetting things that had happened at the hospital. But she remembered Max in danger. She knew that those memories would always be sharp, and vivid in her mind. She would never be able to forget. And now Max was here, in the bed with her, safe. But still something was wrong.

“Chloe,” Max began, before cutting herself off with a quick, sharp breath.

Chloe tried to look at her, in the dim and rapidly fading light in the room. She was there, and she was so, so small. She had superpowers now, or some shit. Time travel, and future selves, and storms, and rewinding and all those other things. But in that moment Chloe saw her, and could only think about how fragile she was, and how alone, as she curled in on herself, in the fetal position. She was going to cry, and Chloe did the only thing that came to mind. She moved, and slowly, gently, and firmly warped her arms and body around Max, to hold and comfort her. From that day forward she knew that it was her responsibility to soothe Max, each and every night after, if she’d have her. It was her responsibility to keep her safe.

“I’m here, butterfly,” Chloe said, the nickname popping into her head, unexpectedly, “you’re safe.”

“But you weren’t Chloe, and I wasn’t,” Max said, her voice coming out in gasps, and sobs, as Chloe rubbed her hands up and down the smaller girl’s back. “You died, and you died again and again, and I was drugged, and Jefferson did those things to me, in the Dark Room, and, where the fuck do we go from here? What do we do now?”

“I don’t know,” Chloe said honestly, as Max buried her face in her chest, snot dripping onto the taller girl. “I don’t know. I guess we try to move on, and heal. But whatever it is, after this week, we’ll be together. I mean, who else is going to understand all this shit we’ve been through?”

“Promise me you won’t leave me, Chloe?”

“You’re hella funny, Max,” Chloe said, running her hand through her short brown hair, slowly and gently. “And to think that just a week ago I was asking you the same thing. I will not leave you.”

“Promise?”

“I promise.”

There was a long, long pause, as Max’s sobs slowly turned to gasps, and hiccups, and Chloe gently held her. And then, suddenly, incongruously, Max laughed, bitterly, and almost angrily.

“It’s kinda shit, isn’t it?”

“What is, Max?” Chloe asked.

“I really fucking looked up to Jefferson, you know? I fucking idolized him. And he still did all those things to me. To Victoria, and Kate, and, shit.”

“Max,” Chloe said, gently pushing her back, so she could look in her eyes, red and bleary as they were. “It’s not your fault, okay? Remember that I know what that shit is like, kinda, I guess, with Nathan. Well, not really, but still, the point is it is not your fault. If anything it’s my fault for not stopping to help Victoria, or being fast enough to save you in the junkyard when he attacked.”

“Chloe, no,” Max said, her voice harsher, and more angry than Chloe had ever heard her before. “Listen to me, I know you’re already thinking about making this your fault, like you do with William and everything else. But it isn’t, okay? We didn’t deserve what happened, and it wasn’t our fault, okay? Do not go fucking blaming yourself.”

“Hey, don’t go making me cry with all that mushy shit, Caulfield,” Chloe snorted, even as she felt her eyes prick.

“It’s true, even if it is mushy. You deserve good things.”

“And you do too.”

“Maybe we both do,” Max said, pulling herself back in for another hug, before letting her go.

“Then who is to blame for this past week?”

“Jefferson,” Max said, bitterly. “He’s a piece of shit. He killed Nathan, and, oh god, Chloe, he killed Rachel too! I haven’t even given you space to mourn or feel that. I’m a shitty best friend.”

“Yeah,” Chloe said, feeling the tears start to fall, “he did kill her. Because he’s a monster. It isn’t fair and it doesn’t make sense and this whole fucking universe is shit. It always has been. But I already got angry, and I think I expected this. I don’t know how it could be any different. I’ll feel the emotions later, don’t worry.”

“Chloe,” Max said, wiping her nose with her sleeve, “it’s okay to deal with that shit. You want to keep me safe, and protect me, and all that shit. Don’t deny it, I can see it in your eyes. But you’re not alone in this. I’m here for you too.”

“Yeah,” Chloe said, sniffing, “I know Max. Thank you. Partners in time.”

“And partners in crime.”

Chloe pulled her in, one last time, as tight as she could, and Max did likewise, wrapping her spindly arms around Chloe back. And somehow that, more than anything else, made the taller girl feel safe. She felt warm, and comforted, after all this shit, and it did not make sense. The universe was full of dark infinities. There were monsters like Jeffershit out there, and some would never, ever be punished. There were mysteries she might never understand. And if there were any old strange gods looking down on Arcadia Bay, for all the beauty of this place, they had still let all this all happen. They had let Nathan and Rachel die. They had let Kate, Victoria, Max, and Chloe herself be kidnapped. They had let William die, and had let Joyce move on to David, and had let the Prescotts buy up everything. They had to be monsters.

But whoever they were they had also let Max exist. Max in whose arms she felt so at peace right now. And, as she softly drifted off into a deep, dark, and dreamless sleep, Chloe knew that a universe with Max in it could not be irredeemable. That maybe if her life had Max in it, then she herself could be redeemed. Chloe knew that however dark, and strange, and hostile the universe got, no matter how filled with shit and hella horrible people, Max was her lighthouse, her safety in all of it, guiding her home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey look I went and finished the chapter I had started before I started writing my current MS (which has 18000 words ahhhhh)!
> 
> As before, I have all the outline done, and know what chapters I still have to write, but for now, I am currently moslty working on my book. So I will update these last few when I can. Thank you for reading and hope you enjoy!


	29. One of the Days You Lived

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chloe says goodbye.
> 
> CW for death, graveyards, and burials.

One of the Days You Lived

“Don't it seem so detached and unreal? Don't it seem so far away? Like the past never happened, or like nothing's ever changed. With your casket open in front of me, your eyes closed and your lips silent, with my name tattooed into your skin.”

-Against Me, “Because of the Shame.”

Chloe stood, in her fancy black slacks, and her fancy black button down, and her fancy shoes, looking at the sad box in front of her. It should have been different, right? It could have been different, in any number of ways. Things could have turned out any other way than this, and it was hard not to feel like some strange old god was out there, deciding that this was the way things would end.

There should have been rain, for a start. A storm should have come for real, and blown away the whole town, erased any trace that once racist men with guns came here and decided to name it after heaven. Or there should have been a crowd of people mourning. All of these things could have happened. But instead it was just a sunny day, her, a small flustering cluster of blue butterflies, Max, and, in a hole in the ground, six feet deep, a box that held the mortal remains of Rachel Amber.

At least she should have been crying, as the precious few other people who had bothered to show up had left, and they lowered her down. She should have been devastated. She should have felt something other than the way she did. But she did not. She was just herself. Just Chloe. She was not even numb. She was not high, or drunk, or anything. She was just watching Rachel get buried, and unsure what she should feel. How long had it even been since she had just let herself feel something? She had no answers.

And then, once she was down, in the hole, in her little, simple, cheap box, people were throwing dirt back over her. Chloe almost wanted to laugh at the ridiculousness of it all. Rachel had been dead and buried for months, in that shallow grave, by those monsters. And now the cops had dug her up, and some anonymous scientists had taken samples, for the case against Jefferson. And now after all that fuss they were burying Rachel here again, in this graveyard that meant nothing to her, in the town she had so desperately wanted to leave. It would have made more sense to leave her in the junkyard. At least that place actually meant something to her when she was alive.

Or Chloe thought, she believed that the junkyard had meant something to Rachel. But she really had no way of knowing. There was no conclusion to Rachel’s story, no final answer, about whether or not she had loved Frank, or what Chloe and their time together had meant to her. Her story just ended.

“Chloe,” Max said, reaching out, and taking her hand, “everyone has left. We can go back to your place, now.”

“Rachel Amber was here,” Chloe muttered.

“What?”

“I don’t know, just like, she mattered,” Chloe said vaguely. “Rachel Amber was here, and she was real, right? Her life was important?”

“Yes, of course,” Max said, squeezing her hand, as they looked at the last shovel-fulls of dirt being tossed over her. “Why would you even ask that?”

“Because why would she exist, and want to leave this place, and then just die? It was like that was her only purpose. Like that was the only existence she had, the only reason to be alive. It was all so she could be dead and buried. And for what reason? She could have been so much more. She wanted to leave this all behind her. I think her story could have ended differently.”

“I agree. But, like, are you okay Chloe? You know you can talk about your feelings with me, right?”

“Right, yeah, of course,” Chloe snorted. “That’s the same thing that fucking therapist said in our first session.”

“We can find a new one. Remember, the Prescotts are paying for it, with the settlement at Blackwell and everything.”

“Yeah, I can’t really forget that,” Chloe said sarcastically, before biting her tongue. “Sorry, force of habit. I’ve still got all my old bile and spite in me. But yeah, you are right, and yes, even if I didn’t like that dude and want to find another shrink, he was right too. I can talk about my feelings. At least with you I can. But honestly I don’t feel like crying, or breaking down or anything right now. I’m just, like, fucking pondering things, you know?”

“Not really. What things?” Max asked, looking up at her.

“Death, the future, time,” Chloe said, vaguely. “It’s been almost a week since we last heard from future Max. And she seemed afraid of coming back. Afraid of some storm still out there. Maybe it always will be out there. But I still wish I could talk with her. Because she talked about timelines, and I wonder if in any other timeline Rachel got out, if she had a future. I hope she did. She deserved that.”

“I mean,” Max said with a sigh. “ I kinda hate future Max. And I am terrified of becoming her, and I still wonder what happened that made me turn into her. Will make me turn into her. But I see what you mean. 

Rachel did deserve all that and more. Someday, if it’s not too much to ask. I hope you’ll tell me all about her.”

“Oh, shit,” Chloe said, smiling suddenly, “the things I could say. The play we had together. The train ride. The night we made a little star-scape in her room. It’s all so vivid, Max, like it’s still playing out now. Like I could go to it right now. Every decision I made, every one I could have chosen but didn’t. It’s all in my head, and it’s a good story.”

“I look forward to hearing it,” Max said, as Chloe turned and looked down at her. “But for now, what do you say we get out of here?”

“Yeah, that sounds good, let’s bounce,” Chloe said, turning to head back towards her truck.

But as she turned, she saw a figure, standing at the edge of the graveyard. She recognized that slouch, and more importantly she recognized Pompidou. Silently, slowly, almost automatically, she raised her hand in both greeting and farewell.

“Holy crud, is that Frank?” Max asked, looking at him. “Should we go over and talk to him?”

“No,” Chloe said, taking her gently by her shoulder, “let’s go, Max.”

“Wait, really? Why don’t you want to at least say hey?”

“No, I don't, particularly." Chloe said with a shrug, trying to find words to express her feelings, all complex and rough-edged. “When someone leaves our lives those exits are not made equal. Some are beautiful and poetic and satisfying. Others are abrupt and unfair, like William, or Rachel here, or even fucking Nathan going and dying before I could beat him to a pulp. But most are just unremarkable, unintentional, clumsy. There isn’t a conclusion to the stories of the people who died. No one comes out on stage at the end to tie it all together thematically. This is not a play. And that’s what makes it so goddamn tragic. So if I get to choose this one exit, I’d like it to be like this, waving to Frank at the funeral of the woman we both loved, and never seeing him again.”

Across the graveyard Frank raised a hand, and then turned, and walked away, with Pompidou at his heels. For a long moment, Chloe and Max just stood there, together, until they too finally turned, and walked back to the pickup.

“Are you sure you’re okay to drive?” Max asked, as they climbed up into the pickup, and the engine coughed loudly under them.

“Yeah, no worries,” Chloe said, flashing her a grin. “The doc cleared me to drive when he took the stitches out of my cheek.”

“Out of one of your cheeks,” Max corrected. “That bullet wound still has got, what, four stitches in it?”

“Yep!” Chloe said proudly. “It’s gonna scar up and look hella badass, don’t you think? I’ll have two gigantic scars running across each of my cheeks. What chick wouldn’t want that, right?”

“Uh, right,” Max coughed, awkwardly.

Chloe paused, trying to collect herself, and act cool, before she stuck her foot in her mouth yet again.

“Anyway, I guess we finally need to go back to David and Joyce’s family therapy hour,” Chloe snorted sarcastically. “I get that they’re trying to stick together, and be less of a pair of gigantic dicks, but still, I wish I had some more space.”

“Wait, Chloe,” Max said, touching her hand lightly, stopping her from pulling out onto the road, “about that. I’ve been talking to my parents.”

“What about?”

“Well, like, you know there isn’t exactly a plan to reopen Blackwell, right?”

“Right,” Chloe said smiling, “it turns out finding out you were hiding, like, two predators in your school, that your security was incompetent, and that your principle was possibly involved in like, some really shady financial, is not good for your bottom line or your reputation. I’ve even heard some rumors that they might never reopen.”

“Yeah, but like, whatever happens, that delayed my school plans,” Max said awkwardly. “Like, I’m not sure what I’ll do for college. And you’re getting your GED. Like, if we were going to go to college together that might work out. Hypothetically.”

“Holy shit, Max,” Chloe laughed, “are you cereal? You remembered that from when we were kids?”

“Of course,” Max said, gently punching her on the shoulder. “I don’t want your exit from my life to be awkward, or unfair, or even beautiful. I don’t want it to happen at all. So why not go to college together? But, like, the point is this. Blackwell is emptying out, with Victoria, Warren, and all the rest going back to their parents, like Kate did. And I can’t stay at your place forever. Well, wait, let me correct that. I don’t want to leave you, but I don’t know about David. And we have to have a plan eventually.”

“Where are you going with this, Max?” Chloe asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Right, right, rambling, sorry. Not good at speaking stuff, and still trying to get more confident. The point is, do you want to move in with me and my parents in Seattle until we can get into a college? I know it’s not your dream of San Francisco or Los Angeles, but, like, it is still getting out of Arcadia Bay.”

Chloe looked at her, and suddenly, after all that, she finally felt some emotions in her chest.

“Holy shit, Max,” Chloe muttered.

“I already cleared it with my parents!” Max said hurriedly. “They’re cool with it if you’re cool with staying in my room! Oh, shit, fuck, did I screw up? Are you crying? I’m sorry, I take it all back.”

“Max,” Chloe said, as the tears streamed down her cheeks, “you are such an enormous dork. These are hella happy tears.”

“So, I guess, is that a yes?”

“Max,” Chloe said, as she leaned over and hugged the shorter girl, “it is absolutely a yes. I’d love to move in with you.”

“Uh, wowsers,” Max said, awkwardly. “Right, right. Cool.”

“Okay, I’ll let you go, you adorable nerd girl, you.” Chloe laughed, as she leaned back into her seat. “But for now then, let’s go ahead and get out of here, and start packing this old truck up for the trip up to your parents and Seattle. Always did want to see the Fremont troll and all the other shit.”

The engine roared, as they pulled away, heading off together. Behind them lay the graveyard, where only a disturbed patch of dirt was left as a reminder to show that Rachel Amber had been there. Overhead, gently fluttering about, blue butterflies filled the air, soaring gracefully up towards the sun.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright folks, buckle up, we have left the actual ending of this story, and one more bonus chapter just for laughs. And neither of them are written in the slightest.
> 
> Still, all the same, I hope you enjoyed! Also I proofread this really sleep deprived so let me know if there are typos.


	30. The Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The end of Chloe and Max's story, and answers at last.

The Epilogue

“There is no manual, there is no road map, no help line you can call; my body does not come with instructions, and sometimes even I don’t know what to do with it. This cannot be easy. But still, you touch me anyway.”

\- Ivan Coyote

The first time Chloe realized how Max’s parents saw them was one evening when she got back to their crowded apartment after a long shift in the garage. Max was in the kitchen, cooking, and singing, and she smiled at Chloe as she walked by, into their room, and tossed her backpack on the bed. And then, there, under it, she saw a little pamphlet about safe sex, with a rainbow flag printed on the top of it.

“Hey, Max?” Chloe asked, as she left their room, with the pamphlet in hand. “Were you leaving things on the bed for me?”

“No,” Max said, interrupting her singing, “but my dad was just in there, I think. Why? What’s up, bro?”

“Not much,” Chloe said with a shrug. “I’ll tell you about it later.”

The first time Chloe realized how Max’s friends in Seattle, all two of them, saw them was when they were getting tea together. They were all sitting in a tiny shop, the same one that Kate and Victoria had met them in. The four of them took up half the seats there. But then one of the friends opened their mouth, and spoke.

“So you two really moved up here, together, after just two weeks of knowing each other, right?”

“Well,” Max said with a smile, “we did know each other for years growing up. And we have been up here for nearly a month. I don’t think that’s too, too fast.”

“Uhualing,” the friend snorted.

“What’s that?” Chloe asked.

“It’s when queer women get really serious in their relationships really fast. Arcadia Bay must have been pretty isolated, out there in the sticks, I guess, if you don’t know gay stuff like that.”

They were smiling, and it was not too serious, right? But at the same time, Chloe looked to Max, and saw her blushing.

The first time Chloe realized how Max saw her was near the solstice, when it was freezing outside, and her parents were gone, and they had stayed up all day together watching old science fiction shows together on Max’s laptop. There was a storm outside, wind, with drifting snow falling down on the grey streets. But inside the apartment they were warm, and safe together in the light.

“Okay, okay,” Chloe laughed, as they leaned against each other, under the blankets on Max’s bed, “I’ll admit they aren’t all bad. At least Ace is hot.”

“Oh, right, of course you’d choose to comment about that,” Max laughed, elbowing her in the gut.

“What can I say? I’m a sucker for girls in big jackets,” Chloe snorted.

“What about girls in grey hoodies?”

Chloe looked down at her, and Max looked up, returning her gaze. She remembered the roof, and the kisses, and the day after. They were in a different place, now, a better place. They each were getting help, and were safe, and had moved on. And Chloe knew what she wanted to do. The girl pressing her body against her was very warm.

“Yeah, they’re cute too.”

“Just cute?” Max asked, her lips drifting closer to Chloe.

“And sexy.”

“And they tend to like punk girls with blue hair, I hear.”

And just like that they were kissing. This kiss did not end. They did not leave each other, as they gasped for breath, their hands running across each other’s faces. Chloe was dimly aware of moving the laptop to the floor, as she tasted the other woman, hot, and bright, and hungry. She was dimly aware of taking off Max’s hoodie. And then Max’s hand was reaching forward, feeling Chloe’s chest through her shirt.

“Max,” Chloe said sharply, drawing back on instinct, her breath quickening.

“Shit, are you okay, babe?” Max asked, hurt and fear running across her face. “I thought we were going in that direction. I thought you wanted that. Shit, sorry, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”

“No, no, not like that,” Chloe stuttered, as he heart raced.

“Do you not see me that way?” Max said softly.

“No, like, I do. Have for ages.”

“So have I, since the roof.”

“So, uh, I guess this is a lame question but you are gay? Finally figured out that label business?”

“Bisexual, I think,” Max replied seriously, “but mostly I am just into you, Chloe. But, like, I never, ever want to pressure you. We don’t have to make this physical if you don’t want to.”

“No,” Chloe said suddenly, louder than she had meant to, “like, uh, yeah, I do want to make this physical. I think you’re hella sexy and not to be weird but I’ve had a massive hard on for you for a long time. Metaphorically that is.”

“Yeah,” Max said, her eyes flicking down Chloe’s body for a moment, “I’ve noticed. But then what’s wrong, Chloe?”

“Just, like, other people have been there, you know,” Chloe said, her heart thumping. “They have had their hands on me. And I think when you touched me, for just a second, I was reminded of that. I’m sorry. You could do so, so much better than me.”

“Chloe,” Max said, cradling the taller girl's head in her hands, “I want to be your girlfriend on purpose. Because you do deserve good things. I choose you. Always will, every time. I love you.”

“Hella mushy shit,” Chloe grinned despite herself, before leaning forward and giving Max a quick kiss. “I love you too, Caulfield.”

“I open my heart and soul to you and that’s how you repay me?” Max asked, her eyes twinkling. “Just a simple kiss?”

“And how else could I repay you,” Chloe said, reaching her hands up and running her hands through Max’s hair.

“I have some ideas.”

“Oh, do you?”

“A few, yeah.”

As she spoke, Chloe let her hands trail down Max’s body, so slowly. They lingered for a moment, by her waist, before grabbing her t-shirt, and lifting it up, as the storm swirled and howled outside. They were kissing, and then, the shirt was off, and Max was sitting there in just a ratty old sports bra. But there was something else on her face that stopped Chloe, as she moved to kiss her again.

“Max, are you okay?”

“Yeah, nothing wrong,” Max said hurriedly. “I’m fine.”

“Max, you don’t need to lie to me like that.”

“It’s just,” Max began, slowly and carefully, “this is my first time, Chloe. I don’t know what you see when you look at me. And I’m scared, I guess. Or nervous, at least.”

“When I look at you I see the most adorable girl I’ve ever fucking seen,” Chloe said, her eyes trailing across the other woman. “I see my best friend, and the person I love, and always want to be around. I see the person who redeemed me, and saved me, and who I think is just, like, the hottest person alive. But it’s okay to be nervous. We’ll take it slow. And if you don’t want to do anything we don’t have to. I’ll stop when you tell me. Okay?”

“Okay,” Max nodded, with a soft smile. “And, for what it’s worth, I think you’re hot too, scars and all.”

“I know,” Chloe said, as she crawled forward, gently pushing Max down onto her back. “And besides, with this snowstorm your parents won’t get home for hours. We have all the time we could ever want. No one will stop us.”

They were kissing, warm, and increasingly hungry, when suddenly the door slammed open. 

“Oh my gods, you dumb-asses,” a strangely familiar voice shouted, as Max shrieked. “Put a shirt on.”

Chloe sprang up, looking for a weapon, and then froze, looking at the figure in the doorway. She was strange, covered in tattoos, and wearing a grey hoodie. Her head was shaved down to the scalp, and she looked like she was in perhaps her early thirties. But despite everything, Chloe still recognized her.

“Max?” Chloe asked.

“Wait,” Max, her Max, present-day Max, said from the bed, “that’s me?”

“Of course I’m you, dumb-ass,” future Max laughed. “Or at least, I’m one of many possible you’s, that is. There’s a near infinity of us out there, spread along all the different timelines.”

“But, how?” Chloe asked, feeling like her jaw was going to hit the floor.

“Well, I mean, do you have the time powers?” She asked, gesturing to the bed.

“I think so?” Max replied, her eyes nearly bugging out of her head. “But even with the rewind, I don’t know how to do half the things you did during that week. And I don’t want to use the powers ever again for fear of screwing things up.”

“Good plan,” future Max said, giving her a thumbs up, “after all there’s always still a storm out there, if you get idiotic like some other Max’s did. Speaking of which, still figuring out the details but that’s why I started showing up here, I think. Two different versions of you two punched a whole in the skin of the universe trying to keep their marriage together, and I fell through the hole they left behind. One moment I’m kissing this hotter version of you, Chloe, no offense, in an RV about forty miles outside of Atlanta and the next thing I know I’m falling back in time and possessing a much more clueless version of myself, no offense, Max.”

“Wait, what?’ Max shouted. “You’re not making any sense. The skin of the universe? Different versions of us? A storm? Where did our powers even come from?”

“Also we get married?” Chloe said quietly.

“A lot of future versions of you do, yeah,” Max said with a shrug. “But you know, that’s other timelines. Not sure what exactly will happen here. And I guess the specifics of it are up to you. Oh, and hey, look at that! I guess I am being a little bit less of a monster now, and patching up loose ends. So don’t use time travel powers, don’t come looking for me, buy toilet paper in late twenty-nineteen. Anything else?”

“So much,” Max said, standing up, and climbing off the bed. “But seriously, where the fuck did our powers come from? Why did this all happen like it did?”

“That I am still trying to figure out,” future Max grinned. “I’ll get right on it after I pay two other dumb-asses a visit. But as for you two? Uh, I don’t know. Try not to be as much of an asshole as me, live long and prosper.”

“Wait,” Max shouted again, as the future version of her turned to leave. “I have to know. What made me into you? How did I end up so angry, and scary, with a shaved head and all of those tattoos?”

Future Max froze, and did not turn around, as she spoke.

“Chloe died. Chloe died and the result was me. I’m just you without her, Max. And I used to be pretty mad about that, but now I just think you’re lucky. Take care of her. She deserves it.”

She left, and Chloe and Max could only stand there, for a long time, until Chloe cleared her throat, and spoke.

“So, uh, we nearly got cock-blocked by a future version of you. But you’re still here, I’m still here, and you’re in a bra. Want to pick up where we left off?”

“Yeah,” Max said, a little awkwardly, as she turned and faced the taller girl, but Chloe could tell her smile was genuine. “I think I’d like that.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright everyone! Ta da! We've done it. This is more or less the end of the story for now. There will be a bonus chapter tomorrow, and I'll talk about what I'm going to be doing going forward, writing my nanowrimo stuff, and all my other things. As well as any future fanfic, although that will be pretty far off in the future.
> 
> But for now I just want to thank you all for following, commenting, and all that jazz. You all are wonderful. If you want to stay in touch with me you can always find me on tumblr at thefiresontheheight, and feel free to message, chat, and all that jazz. Although I will caution, I tend to blog about random lefty and queer things, and less so fandom. But it is still a place where I am at, and a good place to message me. Thank you all so much!


	31. Hella Bonus Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The second one!

Hella Bonus Chapter 2

“So, there we go,” Chloe said, as she hung the photo of the blue butterfly on the wall, next to all the dozens of pictures Max had taken of her over the years. “And here we are, in our own apartment, at last.”

“Yeah,” Max said softly, from behind her back.

“You know, I like this place,” Chloe started.

“Chloe,” Max said.

“Like, seriously, it’s got a good energy to it. Good vibes. There’s room for my skateboard stuff, a desk for studying at, and plenty of light for all your photography.”

“Babe.”

“I think this is a good place to start our life together.”

“Chloe,” Max coughed, “turn around.”

“What is it babe? Oh, uh, damn, you are very, very naked.”

“I am,” Max said, laying back in their bed, on top of their sheets, “are you going to do anything about it?”

“Oh,” Chloe said innocently, deciding to play with her girlfriend. “And what do you want me to do?”

“Just get over here now, punk,” Max grinned.

“Alright,” Chloe said, smiling back, “but only ‘cause you asked nicely, nerd.”

She crawled onto the bed, on her hands and knees, straddling Max, and kissed her, hard and hungrily, as she felt Max’s hands pulling down her pants. Chloe was very, very happy, in that bed, bathed in light, with her girl.

Somewhere, in another of the infinite timelines…

“So good to have another date with you, Kate,” Max said, leaning on her cane, as they sat outside drinking tea together, their masks down around their chin. “You really are a delight to just be around and talk to.”

“And you too,” Kate said, smiling shyly. “I can’t believe you actually grew up in Arcadia Bay.”

“But never went back, sadly,” she sighed, “maybe I wouldn’t be living in that dingy apartment right now if I was.”

“Hey, Max,” Kate said, taking her hand, “we’ve talked about this. You’re eating more, and you’ve got a therapist. I’m really proud of the progress you’re making. And we will clean up your place together, I promise.”

“Hey, weird question,” a woman with a shaved head and tons of tattoos said, through her mask, as she walked up to them. “But did you just mention Arcadia Bay?”

“Uh, yeah,” Max asked, looking up at her.

“Holy shit,” the woman said with a whistle. “I grew up there too! I actually went back there, briefly, after prison, before running off with this hot chick. But then she ghosted me outside of Atlanta. Name’s Chloe Price. Delighted to meet you both.”

...in another of the infinite timelines…

“Alright, you pair of dumb-asses,” Bay Max shouts, as she kicks down the door to your apartment. “How the fuck did you screw this up that badly? I spent so long dicking around in this stupid timeline where I didn’t even have powers, and had to deal with a version of me kissing Warren. And, holy shit, is that Rachel?”

“Oh, hello,” Rachel says.

Bay Max looks from you, to your wife, to Rachel, and back to you again.

“Chloe, did you do this?” She asks, raising an eyebrow.

“We thought you did!” Max says, grabbing your hand, and shouting at her. “And besides, last time we saw you, you were being a total asshole and, like, trying to erase us from existence or some shit that didn’t even make sense.”

“Oh, right,” Bay Max counters, with a dismissive wave of her hand, “forgot about that for a second. Well, I’ve been through some character growth since then.”

“You’ve been through some character growth?” Max shouts, before cutting herself off, and putting her head in her hands. “You know what? Fine, we’ll deal with that later. But if you didn’t save her, and we didn’t save her, then how the fuck is Rachel Amber suddenly alive and in me and my wife’s living room?”

“Like I was telling you two before,” Rachel says, with that strange look on her face, “the Old Gods of Arcadia Bay must have just wanted me here. That’s the only reason that I can think of that I’m back.”

“Do you have any idea what the fuck she’s talking about?” You ask, turning desperately to the once evil version of your wife.

“Not much,” she says, with a shrug, and a sudden smile, as she turns and heads back out the door. “But I am going to find out. These gods won’t know what hit them.”

...in another timeline…

“So wait,” Chloe said, to the two women sitting at the bar with them, “you two are also gay?”

“Well,” the taller woman said, “yeah, pretty much, although, like, null, labels are confusing.”

“Right,” Chloe said, looking at the shorter woman. “I like your shaved heads, by the way. What’s your name?”

“Reaver Phen,” the shorter woman said, looking away.

...in another timeline…

“So wait,” Chloe said, to the two women sitting at the bar with them, “you two are also gay?”

“Figuring it out,” the taller girl in the heavy armor said, her voice quiet, and angry.

“Oh, no, yeah, we are absolutely gay, even if the author is still writing us,” the shorter girl said. “I’m Ehmeir, and this is Rhienne.”

...in another timeline…

“So wait, this timeline has a girl named Angel in it? Cool.”

...in another timeline…

“Ah, right, I’m trans in this one. Hella rad.”

...in another timeline…

“So, wait, in this timeline I’m dead and Max is still all wrapped up in time travel manipulations? Dark. I hope it ends happily, though.”

...in another timeline..

“Oh, damn, this one isn’t even written yet. High hopes, though, I know it’s going to be great.”

...and back in the first timeline.

“So I hear that Victoria and Kate are official, now,” Max said, as she looked across the sheet at Chloe, and as sunlight filled their apartment. “Although I wish them good luck. They will have a lot of issues to work through, I think.”

“Hmmm,” Chloe grunted, looking at the woman laying on her bed.

“And I hear that Warren and Brooke are together too.”

“Huh.”

“Chloe you okay?” Max asked, inching closer to her, their bare skin pressing together. “We just had sex and you’ve barely said a word. What are you thinking?”

“That I love you,” Chloe said, smiling. “That’s all.”

“I love you too, Chloe Price.”

“Hella rad. Wanna get married?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hell yeah! Done for real now! And a couple of really obscure references to my own, and other people's works.
> 
> Here's the deal. I am currently about 20,000 words into a nanowrimo project (with Rhienne and Ehmeir!), about prophecy, and destiny, and gay and trans people, and also still have a finished manuscript to edit (where Reaver Phen is from!) which is about found family, and class solidarity, and gay and trans people, so it will be a long, long time before I get back to writing more fic, probably. How long? Not sure. That said, I do have a vague and general plan for a third and final part of the Old Gods of Arcadia Bay I'd like to write some day. And I hope you'll all be there!
> 
> In the meantime, as I said yesterday, feel free to HMU on tumblr, and stay safe out there!


End file.
